


Namaste

by Leslie_Knope



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Time, M/M, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6390814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leslie_Knope/pseuds/Leslie_Knope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to keep tabs on a group of white collar criminals, Danny and Steve go undercover and take a little trip halfway around the world. Steve keeps trying to convince him that it’ll be just like a regular vacation, but Danny, as always, has his doubts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I mean...writing "undercover as a couple" is like a rite of passage, yes? :)
> 
> And thanks so much to everyone who gave me Tumblr encouragement the other day. I was strangely nervous about it (hooray anxiety) but I'm there now, trying to find my way around! :) Help me find more McDanno/H50 people! I'm [leslieknopeismyspiritanimal](http://leslieknopeismyspiritanimal.tumblr.com/).

Danny trudged up the steps to HQ, his hands wedged deep in his pockets. It was only 12:30 in the afternoon, but so far, today sucked. He’d taken the morning off to spend with Grace and Charlie, which, yes, would normally be wonderful, but not when it was a precursor to saying goodbye to them for three weeks. Grace’s summer break had just started, and the two of them were off to England with Rachel and Stan.

He understood, sure, that the kids deserved to spend time with the other side of their family, but god, three  _weeks_. At least they’d had a lovely morning—he and Grace introduced Charlie to their favorite diner, where they all enjoyed chocolate chip and blueberry pancakes as big as their faces. They stopped by the playground, per Charlie’s request, as well as the beach for Grace, and Danny didn’t even complain. Out loud, anyway.

He’d given them both long hugs when he dropped them back at Rachel’s, and his heart nearly broke when Charlie patted his cheek and said, “I love you, Danno.” He’d gotten a wave and a smile from Rachel, but it was just about all he could do to nod back. The two of them were on decent speaking terms now, he supposed, but there was still a faint undercurrent of anger he always felt toward her, even when he wasn’t in her presence.

Danny was trying to breathe back that anger at the moment, and he was most mostly succeeding. But the second he pushed through the glass doors to their office, where he could see that everyone was gathered in the bullpen, they all fell silent and turned to look at him—shit. They all looked shifty, too, especially Steve. And a shifty Steve almost certainly signaled bad news.

Danny opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but Steve beat him to it. “Hey. How’re the kids?”

He relaxed minutely, trying to hold onto the last vestige of happiness from the morning before he got sucked back into work. “They’re great. Grace says goodbye.”

“I know, she texted me,” Steve said, grinning brightly, and Danny had to laugh.

“Yeah, she—wait, wait, whoa,” he said, twisting to further inspect what caught his eye on the big screen. “What the fuck is that?”

 _That_  was what he was pointing to, a picture of a Hawaii ID up on the big screen with Danny’s picture on it and the name Daniel Tapper. “Don’t be mad,” Steve started, holding his hands out, and Danny huffed a humorless laugh.

“What a wonderful way to start a conversation, Steven,” he said, crossing his arms and quickly scanning everything else on the screen. Shit, this was worse than he thought. “Oh, I’m sorry, Steven  _Tapper_. Once again, what the fuck is this?”

Steve heaved a breath and took a quick look around, but no one else spoke up to save him. “Okay. Well, the governor stopped by early this morning.”

“Uh-huh,” Danny said, gesturing for him to go on. “And what does that have to do with us, I’m guessing, pretending to be married? I mean, unless we’re supposed to be brothers, which I don’t think anyone would believe.”

“We’re going undercover.”

“That is the logical conclusion, yes,” he said, nodding. “But I’m gonna need more details.”

Steve looked around again, and Lou chuckled. “Oh, no, buddy. You volunteered the two of you, so you get to explain.”

“Wait, you _volunteered_ us? Without talking to me? For what? And once again, why the fuck are we _married_?”

Steve blew out an exasperated breath and crossed his arms. “Just—stop yelling at me and let me explain.”

“Fine,” Danny said, gesturing expansively in front of him. “You have the floor. I won’t say a word.”

“Various federal agencies—including the FBI and the SEC—have been keeping track of these four men who live in the northeast,” Steve explained, gesturing at a set of surveillance photos on the screen. “For years they’ve been involved in money laundering, tax evasion, some real heavy white collar crime. No one has had any luck in nailing them down, though, and apparently two of them are moving to Hawaii later this year. The local FBI branch can’t do this, so we’ve been tapped.”

“Can’t do what? Why are we married?” Danny cut in, emphasizing every word. “We can’t exactly go undercover in Hawaii—thanks to your dumb stunts, we end up on the news a lot. People know our faces.”

“We’re going on vacation,” Steve said, smiling brightly, and Danny frowned.

“Vacation where?” he asked. Steve mumbled something in the vague direction of the floor, and Danny’s frowned deepened. “Try again, Steven.”

“We are going to a yoga and meditation retreat in Bali. For our, uh, our honeymoon,” Steve said, scratching at his hairline.

Danny’s jaw dropped, and he blinked more times than was probably flattering. “Excuse me?”

“Gotta say, brah, your face was even better than I expected,” Kono said, nearly chortling, and Danny glared at her—traitor.

“Is this a joke?” he asked, gesturing between him and Steve.

“Not a joke, I’m afraid,” Chin said, grinning a little too broadly as he moved toward the computer table. “We’ve already been backstopping your identities.”

Danny sucked his lower lip into his mouth and blew out a breath. “For how long?”

“Two and a half weeks,” Steve said.

“Wow. But what about Gr—shit,” Danny said, with another sigh.

“At least the timing is good for that,” Steve offered hopefully, but Danny frowned at him.

“So I’m assuming these guys will be at the same place? We’re supposed to what, befriend them or something?”

“Exactly,” Chin said with a nod. ”The four of them will be there, vacationing with their wives. We’re establishing an identity for you guys as private art and jewelry dealers and trying to leave a few hints that maybe not everything is above board with your business. Hopefully they’ll sense kindred spirits.”

“Ideally we’ll be able to find out _something_ that will help us catch them when they move to Hawaii,” Steve said, and Danny nodded.

“And when are we supposed to leave on this adventure?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Steve said, with a guilty smile, and Danny groaned.

Someone knocked at the door then, a young pimply-faced kid holding a small package, and Steve went over to sign for it. ”What’s that?” Danny asked as Steve ripped open the padded envelope and tipped a small box into his hand.

“We got a local jeweler to lend us wedding bands for you guys,” Kono asked.

“Wow, you guys have been busy. I didn’t even get to help plan the wedding,” Danny said dryly. Steve dropped the smaller ring into Danny’s palm, and he lifted it up to get a closer look.

“Be careful,” Grover warned. “That’s a platinum ring worth $5K.”

“Shit!” he yelped, dropping the ring on the computer table as if it was on fire. “Jesus Christ, why so expensive? My first _car_ was less than that.”

“If you guys are big into art and jewelry, you would likely have nice rings,” Chin explained.

With a wince, Danny gingerly picked up the ring and slid it onto his finger—it fit perfectly, which somehow was not a surprise. He was pretty sure that Steve had a thick file hidden somewhere with terrifying amounts of information about all of them, including but not limited to ring sizes. ”Well, my old ring was gold, so at least this one’s different.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” Steve asked, his eyes bright, and Danny wrinkled his nose.

“What’s with the asking? You could just order me to do this.”

“I know,” he said, his face falling a little. “But I’m not gonna force you to do something you really don’t want to do.”

Danny exhaled and licked his lips. “Yes, okay, fine, let’s do it. But just for the record, babe,” he said, pointing at Steve. “When we got married, you took _my_ name.”

Steve grinned and nodded. “Deal.”

* * *

Steve led the way down the aisle, but Danny tugged at his arm before he could step into their row. “I’ll take the window, babe, you can have the aisle seat.”

“What, why?” he asked, perplexed. “That’s your seat.”

“I’m aware of that,” Danny said, squeezing past Steve into the window seat and pulling him into the row so other people could get by. “But as much as I am loath to admit it, you need the extra leg room more than I do. It’s a long flight.”

Steve grinned and opened his mouth to respond, but Danny tilted his head and glared. “I’m being nice to you. Don’t ruin it.” 

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” he asked as he tucked his bag under the seat and fastened his seat belt. 

“I’m practicing. You know, for our cover.”

“Oh, so does this mean you’re gonna be nice to me for this whole time? Lucky me.”

“Eh, not exactly. I mean, there will be time when we’re alone,” Danny said, lifting one corner of his mouth in a smirk, and Steve laughed.

“Well, thank you for this,” he said, stretching his feet out. They were in business class, which was a bonus, but even with the extra legroom he’d probably still be a little stiff when they landed.

“You’re welcome.”

“So does it feel weird?” Steve asked, jutting his chin toward Danny’s hand.

“What, the ring? No, not at all,” he said, shaking his head with a little smile. “I thought it would, six years without one, but it feels totally normal. I bet it’s weird for you, though.”

“Yeah,” he said, opening and closing his hand a couple times and looking down at it. “The weight feels funny. I’ve never worn anything before.”

“What did guys do in the Navy?” Danny asked. “Who were married, I mean. Did they wear their rings?”

“Um,” Steve said, thinking. “If we weren’t on duty, yeah. But not otherwise, it was too risky. I think a lot of them put their rings on their dog tags.”

“Hmm.”

Danny never really asked him very many questions about his time in the service, maybe assuming that he didn’t want to talk about it. Steve kinda liked it, though, even if it was something as minor as that. “What about you? Did you wear yours in the field?”

“Yeah, pretty much all the time. My ring was actually, uh, one of my favorite little things about being married,” he said, with a little sheepish head bob.

“Really?” Steve asked, tilting his head. He wouldn’t have expected that. “Why?”

Danny shrugged and didn’t quite meet Steve’s gaze. “It’s the only way someone can tell, just by looking at you, that you’re married, that you’re connected to someone else. I dunno, it’s nice.”

Steve started to ask another question, but the safety demonstration started and cut him off. They started taxiing down the runway, and Steve leaned over Danny to peer out the window.

“You seem very calm about the fact that you’re not flying this plane,” Danny commented as he leafed through a Sports Illustrated that he bought at the airport.

“Hey. I am very comfortable flying commercial, I’ll have you know,” he said.

Danny narrowed his eyes, clearly disbelieving. “Fine. I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“Plus, I peeked in the cockpit on our way in,” he admitted. “The pilot has an anchor tattoo on his forearm, so we’re probably gonna be okay.”

Danny laughed, loud and bright, and Steve smiled at the sound. “So as long as they’re Navy, they can fly the plane, is that right?”

“Exactly. So are you excited?”

“Am I excited?” Danny repeated, and Steve nodded.

“Yeah. It’s basically like a vacation.”

“Sure, a vacation where we’re married and trying to befriend criminals!” he hissed under his breath.

“At least they’re the white collar kind. I don’t think they’ve killed anyone,” he said mildly.

“Well, we’re really moving up in the world then,” he said with a scoff. “I have certainly never been to Bali, though. What about you, Mr. World Traveler?”

Steve shook his head. “Nope. I had a couple of buddies who went there for leave once, though, while we were somewhere else in Asia. They said it was awesome.”

“I suppose that’s promising. Do you have any idea about this place where we’re staying?”

He shook his head again, smiling ruefully. “No, not at all, I didn’t really get a chance to look into it.”

“Except that it is apparently a yoga and meditation retreat.”

“That’s correct,” he said, and Danny sighed.

“Well, I’m just warning you,” Danny said, lowering his voice and leaning closer, “if I have to sleep, for two and a half weeks, in a goddamn  _hut_  or something that is similarly flimsy in structure, you’re gonna hear about it.”

“Yeah? I’m gonna hear about it?” he asked, smiling, and Danny nodded.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, emphasizing his point with a sharp poke to Steve’s bicep. “I’ll be blaming you.”

“Don’t worry, these guys are all rich. I’m sure it’s gonna be fine.”


	2. Chapter Two

Danny rotated his neck and hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder. They’d spent upwards of 16 hours on two planes, and it felt like the inside of his eyelids were coated in sawdust. “Do we have to take a cab to get there?” he asked, stifling a yawn. The airport was bustling, and he neatly sidestepped a man with two crying children in his arms. The sight was certainly unpleasant—he had traumatic memories of flying with Grace as a toddler—but it made his heart clench anyway.

Steve was busy studying the signs by the exit, and he shook his head. “No, we’re supposed to be picked up by the hotel. This way, I think.”

There was a large collection of drivers, all with signs, and Danny spotted theirs first. “Oh, look, honey,” he said as he nudged Steve, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s us, the  _Tappers_.”

Steve bit back a smile and elbowed him while he raised a hand toward their driver. “Hello, that’s us.”

“Welcome to Bali!” he said in heavily-accented English, shaking both of their hands and then taking two of their bags. “Please come with me, gentlemen.”

He led them to a fancy van parked outside and quickly stowed their luggage before ushering them inside. They must not have been picking anyone else up because their driver made a quick phone call and then pulled into traffic.

“What language do they speak here?” Danny said lowly, and Steve turned to him.

“Mostly Indonesian, I think.”

“And is that one of the many languages that  _you_  speak?” he asked, but Steve shook his head.

“I know a couple of words, but no.”

“My apologies for overhearing,” their driver said, looking at them through the rearview mirror, “but many people here speak English. You should have no trouble.”

“Well, that’s good to know, thank you,” Danny said, covering his mouth to yawn again. Steve, that asshole, didn’t look any worse for wear. “How the hell do you look so normal?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, peering out the window.

“We just spent an ungodly number of hours on an airplane. I feel like a corpse, but you look as daisy-fresh as always. Seriously, you couldn’t spare a yawn? Maybe some under-eye circles, just to make me feel better?”

“Sorry,” he said, grinning. “I’m pretty good with travel. At least we weren’t on a cargo plane.”

Danny shuddered and focused his attention out his own window. Bali was beautiful from what he could tell, all lush and green with rolling hills. It wasn’t a very long drive, and soon they were pulling into a sprawling complex of gardens and low-slung buildings. He couldn’t see it, but when he stepped out of the van, he could smell the ocean. Their driver insisted on taking their bags straight to their room, so they walked toward what looked like the main building. A tall man with a wide smile met them right inside the door.

“Hello, hello! You must be the Tappers,” he said, shaking both of their hands. “How was the flight?”

“Long,” Danny answered immediately, and he laughed.

“Well, I think we can help with that. Maria, could you please get a coconut water for Mr. Tapper?” he asked, and the young woman he spoke to walked away with a swish of her skirt. ”I hear you two are on your honeymoon, congratulations.”

“Uh, thank you,” Steve said, darting a quick look at Danny. Yeah, that would take some getting used to.

“My name is James, and I will be your personal butler for the duration of your stay. If you give me just a minute, I’ll show you to your room.”

He disappeared behind the front desk, and Maria came back, holding a coconut with a straw sticking out of it. ”For you,” she said, smiling broadly. “Coconut water is wonderful for dehydration and jet lag from long travels.”

“Thank you,” Danny said with a wink, and she giggled.

“Hey, no wandering eye on our honeymoon,” Steve whispered, once she was out of earshot, and Danny scoffed.

“Okay, excuse me for smiling at a cute girl who’s like 22 years old. Our marriage is bringing out the jealousy in you.” He took a sip and winced. “Well, at least I feel at home now.”

“I knew it,” Steve said, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “Hawaii  _is_  home.”

“But you didn’t tell me there would be coconuts here, otherwise I might not have come,” he said, and Steve laughed.

“All right, gentlemen. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room,” James said, gesturing, and he led them through the main building. It was modern, full of dark wood and glass with sumptuous white fabric everywhere, and Danny could practically smell the money in the air.

“I’m guessing that we won’t be in a hut,” Steve said, bending down to whisper in Danny’s ear, and he laughed.

“You better hope not, buddy.”

They followed a long gravel path, immaculately-landscaped with a canopy of greenery and bright flowers, and passed several small free-standing structures until James stopped in front of one and pulled a key out of his pocket. “Here’s your villa, gentlemen.”

 _Villa?_ he mouthed at Steve, who shrugged. 

James ushered them inside ahead of him, and Danny’s eyes nearly fell out of his head as he caught sight of the space. Dear god, it was huge—basically one large room with an open floor plan that was the size of a small house, he figured. They were standing in the spacious living area, which had a couch, an armchair, and a desk on one side and a small kitchen with a dining table on the other. There was the largest, comfiest-looking bed he’d ever seen along the far wall, and the entire back wall was one giant window with a large set of French doors and an ocean view.

James was saying something, he was pretty sure, so he tried to pick his jaw up off the floor and listen. “Come, I’ll show you the outdoor area.”

Steve walked toward the French doors, and Danny blindly trailed after him. “Whoa,” he said, and Danny could only nod in agreement.

“Look at that, babe, with the waves you’ll feel right at home,” he said, and Steve laughed.

There was a _pool_ , Jesus Christ, and gardens and an outdoor rain shower. The view was even better outside, obviously, just blue seas as far as the eye could see. They were on some kind of slope, and with the dense greenery overhead and along the edges of the property, it felt very private.

“And the hot tub is just around here,” James said. “I can show you the controls.”

“Uh, sure,” Steve said, following him to the other side of the pool while Danny wandered over to the patio furniture set underneath a thatched roof. He couldn’t help but think that such a nice grill was somewhat wasted in a hotel room.

James opened a small gate and gestured to another gravel path, where Danny could just see the ocean glittering down the slope through the trees. ”And here is your private path down to the water,” he said. “And the resort’s stretch of beach.” 

“Wow.” 

“Will this suffice for your needs?” James asked, and Danny could barely hold in his laugh.

“Yes, I think so,” Steve said gravely. “Thank you.”

“Wonderful,” he said, clapping his hands. “Your two room keys are on the desk, as well as a packet of information. You can reach me directly by pressing zero on your phone—anything you need at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Steve thanked and tipped him, then showed him out of their room—sorry, their _villa_ —and joined Danny by the back door. “Well. I’ve never stayed in a hotel room that needed a tour before.”

Danny laughed, a little hysterically, and shook his head. “Or one that came with a butler. Jesus Christ, what is this place?”

“How the rich live, I suppose,” Steve said, stepping out onto their lanai— _deck_ , Danny corrected himself sternly. Jesus, Hawaii really was getting to him. ”Too bad the pool isn’t really big enough to swim laps in.”

“I’m sorry, are you complaining about the _size_ of our private pool?”

“I’m just really getting into character,” he said with a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, and Danny chuckled.

“There are so many places to nap,” he said, looking around at the bed, the couch, the  _hammock_ , the lounge chairs, and the large outdoor daybed. “I can’t even decide which one to try out first.”

“Oh, no,” Steve said as he tugged at his arm to pull him back inside. “You gotta get over your jet lag, no napping.”

Danny groaned and yanked his arm out of Steve’s grip, though he knew he was right. “Fine. You should finish that, by the way,” he said, gesturing to the coconut he’d set on the desk. “I think coconut water tastes like spit.”

“How can something _taste_ like spit?” Steve asked, and he shrugged.

“I have no idea. But it does.”

“Okay, go take a shower. I’ll order us some dinner and then we can sit in the sun, that’ll help.”

“You’re a really bossy husband, you know that?” he called out over his shoulder, already unbuttoning his shirt as he headed into the bathroom. It was gorgeous, no surprise there, marble everywhere with a huge soaking tub in one corner and an equally large stone shower that appeared to have at least a dozen showerheads. He must have yelped or something because Steve, that ninja, suddenly appeared behind him.

“What, what’s wrong?”

“Holy shit, look at that shower,” he said, and Steve laughed.

“That does look pretty amazing.”

Danny shook his head and stepped further into the room. “I think this bathroom is larger than my first apartment.”

“Well, that’s not difficult,” Steve said, and Danny elbowed him in the stomach, making him groan.

“Get out and let me take my shower in peace.”

Danny enjoyed what was truly an orgasmic shower experience—not literally, though, he was pretty tired—and took full advantage of the obnoxiously fluffy bathrobe he found hanging in the bathroom closet. Who knew that bathrooms had closets?

He left the bathroom, a cloud of steam escaping with him, and Steve looked up from where he was stretched out on the couch. “Nice robe.”

“Thank you,” Danny said primly. “Don’t bother being jealous, there’s another one.”

“So was that shower as good as it looked?” Steve asked, and Danny fell forward onto the bed with a groan.

“Even better. I’ve had sexual experiences that were less enjoyable than that shower,” he said, and Steve wrinkled his nose.

“That’s kinda sad.”

“Shut up,” he said, pitching one of the many decorative pillows at Steve’s head. He dragged himself off the bed, somehow, and looked around for his suitcase, which wasn’t by the closet as it was before. ”Where’s my stuff?”

Steve jerked his head toward the large dresser. “Top two drawers.”

“Wait, did you _unpack_  for me?” Danny asked, and Steve nodded.

“Yep.”

Sure enough, there were his clothes, and since they looked neater than they had even before he packed, Steve must have refolded everything, too. ”Wow, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I ordered us some dinner, too.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, well, you take ridiculously long showers,” he said, smirking, and Danny huffed.  

“That reminds me, here’s my first rule for our marriage: you _must_  take a shower that is longer than three minutes,” he said. Steve started to protest, but Danny shook his head stubbornly and cut him off. “Uh-uh. That shower is amazing, enjoy it. I will barricade you in there, I swear to god. And go do it now, you smell like an airplane.”

Steve scowled at him but obediently disappeared into the bathroom. Danny changed into shorts and a t-shirt and then fell back on the bed again—it was even more comfortable than it looked, if that was possible. He felt slightly more human again, thanks to the shower, but he was still bone-dead tired. Steve wouldn’t know if he closed his eyes for just a minute, right? He happily burrowed down into the nest of pillows, but just as he gave into the impulse, someone knocked on the door.

He groaned and dragged himself out of bed and to the door, which opened to reveal a man with a rolling cart. “Hello,” he said, smiling brightly. Man, everyone here was so friendly. “Shall I put the food inside or out on the deck?”

“Uh, on the deck would be great, thank you,” Danny said, returning his smile and ushering him inside.

Danny barely got a chance to take the covers off the plates before Steve joined him outside, barefoot, his hair still damp and curly at the ends. “Pretty sweet, huh?” Danny asked.

“Yeah, that was pretty nice,” Steve said with a little laugh, taking the seat next to him and dropping their welcome folder onto the table. “I take back what I said about the sex thing.”

“And I think that was about four minutes, not bad for the first day. I’ll have you up to 10 minutes before we leave.”

“Oh, no way, I will not be swayed by your temptations and hedonistic nature,” he said, smiling, and Danny scowled.

“What’d you get us for dinner?” he asked, pushing one plate toward Steve and peering down at his own.

“Just whatever their special of the day was. Looks like some kind of white fish,” he said, then took a bite and didn’t bother to swallow before speaking. “S’good.”

“Glad to hear it, but I don’t have to see it,” Danny said, knocking Steve’s jaw with his knuckle. 

Steve swallowed pointedly. “Sorry, princess.”

Danny dug into his own dinner, far more politely, and nodded—it was pretty good. “Okay, so do I really have to do yoga?” he said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice and probably failing.

“Well, it would look strange if you came to a yoga retreat but didn’t want to do it,” Steve said mildly as he flipped through the brochures with one hand and shoveled fish into his mouth with the other.

“But I  _can’t_ do yoga, like at all. Isn’t that gonna look equally strange?”

“Then just go with the truth—or a version of it, at least. You don’t do yoga, in fact you hate it, but you love me so much that you agreed to come here on our honeymoon anyway,” he said, grinning brightly, and Danny groaned.

“This is going to be so embarrassing.”

“Hey, look, they have naked yoga,” Steve said, and Danny’s eyes widened.

“You are shitting me.”

“Oh, no, I’m not,” he said, shoving a piece of paper toward him. Sure enough, it advertised “nude yoga,” thankfully without pictures, and Danny winced.

“There is not enough money in the  _world_ , Steven.”

“Maybe I’ll try it,” he said, tilting his head, and Danny snorted.

“Um, no. As your husband now, I have veto power. And I say no.”

“You know we’re not actually married, right?”

“Yeah, well, we wouldn’t be for long, not if you went out there and got all bendy and shit in your birthday suit. There would be groupies, and rioting, and you’d probably have sex with someone right on the beach and then our cover would be blown.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You have a very active imagination.”

“Just keep your clothes on and we’ll be fine,” he said as he reached for the other, smaller plate on the cart. “What’s this?”

“No idea,” Steve said, shrugging. “I didn’t order dessert or anything.”

It was a tall piece of chocolate cake, and Danny’s mouth watered. “Ooh, look at that,” he said, twisting the plate so Steve could see where _Congratulations!_  was written on it in chocolate sauce. “Hey, I could get used to this.”

Steve reached out to carefully cut off a bite and then clinked his fork with Danny’s. “Happy honeymooning.”

“Right back atcha. And if we keep getting free cake all the time, I might even stop complaining about it.”


	3. Chapter Three

Steve crept carefully through their gate—he’d noted earlier that morning that it was squeaky—but relaxed when he saw Danny in one of the lounge chairs outside, reading a newspaper. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he said, peering at Steve over the top of the paper. “How was your swim?” 

“Great. The water’s nice and warm, you should give it a try,” he said, grinning when Danny wrinkled his nose.

“I’ll just take your word for it. Did being in the Pacific Ocean make you feel at home?” he asked, then he scrunched up his face and tilted his head. “Wait—Indian?”

Steve laughed. “Yep. Did I wake you when I got up?” he asked, and Danny shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Good.” The night before, Danny had made some awkward offer to sleep on the couch, but Steve just rolled his eyes and ignored him. Seriously, that bed was huge. 

“I ordered us some breakfast,” Danny said. “Thought we could spend the morning reading up on these guys.”

“Yeah, good plan. Thanks,” he said, and then added as an afterthought, “hubby.”

“Don’t call me that,” Danny said, without looking up from the paper, and Steve grinned. He patted himself dry so that he wasn’t dripping all over the nice hardwood floors and headed into the shower.

He was quick about it, as was his habit no matter what Danny said, but he hadn’t even reached for his towel yet when he heard Danny’s footsteps approaching the door. Shit, he really did have ears like a bat—must have been a side effect of being a father.

“I said more than three minutes, Steven!”

“Dan—”

“Don’t make me come in there and turn the water back on!” he yelled, and Steve sighed. “I’ll do it, you know I will.”

“But I’m already done with my shower!”

“Not my problem.”

Steve gritted his teeth and flipped the water back on. It really _was_ a nice shower, but he didn’t really feel any desire to stay in there any longer than he had to. But then a stray jet of water hit his groin, and he stilled.

At home he never jacked off in the shower—all in the name of water conservation—but here, it was probably his only chance for privacy. And at least it would get Danny off his back about his shower length.

He had a routine when it came to masturbating—surprise, surprise—and it was easy enough to adapt to his new environment. Conditioner worked better than soap, he found out quickly, and the warm, pulsing water against his back was a welcome addition to the more familiar sensations.

Danny was sitting at the table when Steve came back outside and took a long moment to look him up and down. Steve ignored the flush he could feel on his face. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Danny said, obviously biting back a smile. “You look very, uh… _relaxed_.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled as he plopped down next to him. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Bacon and eggs for me, oatmeal and fruit for you,” Danny said, gesturing to the plates, and Steve smiled.

He snatched a piece of bacon off Danny’s plate, and his resulting yelp was definitely worth the slap he got on his hand. “Thank you.”

“Well, you’re _not_ welcome, not if you steal my bacon, jeez,” Danny said, grumbling even as he transferred two slices to Steve’s plate. “So what torture do I have to do today?”

“There’s guided meditation at 2 and yoga at 4,” he said, and Danny groaned.

“Jeez, kill me now. I’ve never meditated in my life.”

“A lot of SEALs do it, to help prep for missions,” Steve said, taking a gulp of his coffee, and Danny tilted his head.

“Really? That’s a picture that doesn’t really compute in my head.”

“Yeah, of course. You spend a lot of time training your body, you gotta train your mind, too.”

“I refuse to admit that that’s a good point,” Danny said, after a long pause, and Steve grinned.

“Whatever you say, babe. You wanna brush up on these guys?” he asked. They’d done some studying on the plane, but he wanted to make sure they knew everything they could.

“Yeah, but maybe we should talk inside?” Danny said, gesturing to the open air, and Steve nodded.

“Good idea.” Their villa _seemed_ private and decently isolated, but better safe than sorry.

Steve grabbed the iPads from his bag—Chin had decided that electronic files were saver than having hard copies floating around—and joined Danny on the couch. He used his feet to push Danny to one side and stretched out, resting his head on the arm of the couch. “Okay. James, Dennis, Paul, and Tom, right?”

“Yep. Married to, uh, Angie, Jane, Barb, and Karen,” Danny said, biting his lip as he thought about it. “Respectively.”

“Impressive,” Steve said with a nod.

“Is there anything else strange in their criminal records?”

“Not really,” Steve said, flicking through the files. “One solicitation charge for Dennis several years ago, but apparently that got swept under the rug real quick.”

“Huh. Speaking of, did you know the sex trade is very big in Bali?”

“So you don’t know what _language_ they speak, but you know about the sex trade?”

Danny shrugged. “I just skimmed the Wikipedia page. Wasn’t sure what kind of activities you’d get up to while we were here.”

“That would be a classy move—getting a hooker on your honeymoon.”

“Yeah, I would probably want a divorce.”

Steve laughed and nudged Danny’s thigh with his foot. “That’s fair.”

An hour later, he rubbed his eyes and flipped the iPad shut. “Okay, I think we’re pretty set. But remember we can’t let on that we know any of this.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Wow, really? Not my first time going undercover, Steven.”

He sat up and frowned. “Hey—”

“Sometimes I think you forget that I am actually a competent police officer. _More_ than competent, actually,” he said, gesturing wildly and turning so that he faced Steve more fully. “I know I’m your cute little sidekick or whatever, and I may not be, you know, a _SEAL_ , but I can hold my own.”

Steve scoffed, but Danny just continued to look at him with that unwavering gaze and said in a low voice, “I’m serious. You do this a lot.”

Steve sobered and swallowed hard—did he really make Danny feel that way? “Shit. God, Danno, I’m sorry. You’re…fuck, you’re so far above competent, Five-0 wouldn’t be _anything_ without you, I swear. What can I do better?” he asked, but his face fell when Danny just tilted his head and crossed his arms, as if he didn’t believe him.

“Seriously? You’re actually asking that, you’re being serious right now?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed, then lowered his voice and rested his hand on Danny’s knee. “Please.”

“I dunno,” he said, looking down, “just…ask my opinion sometimes, man. And maybe have an actual _discussion_ instead of just immediately dismissing everything I say.”

Steve took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll try harder, I promise. It’s just—you know, the military hierarchy is so strict, I’m used to being completely in charge. And that’s not an excuse,” he added hurriedly. “But I think I fall into that sometimes. God, you’d think after so long I’d be better.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Danny said, nodding. “I’m sure that was a hard transition, to having a different kind of team.”

“It was easier because of you, though,” he said, smiling at the memory. “You never took my shit, from that very first day.”

Danny laughed. “Did I ever apologize for that, by the way?”

“Don’t bother, I deserved it.”

“I think we might need a better origin story of how we met for our cover.”

“What, you don’t think punching me in the face is romantic enough?” Steve asked, pulling a face, and Danny laughed.

“I think it would take some explaining, maybe we should go with something a little simpler.”

“Okay. How about…,” he said, scratching at his jaw before he snapped to attention and snapped his fingers. “We met at the grocery store, and you took the last carton of milk, right out of my hands. I followed you to yell at you, but then I saw you and it was love at first sight.”

Danny laughed and shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Wow, fake you is really romantic,” he said, and Steve smiled smugly.

“Thank you.”

Danny gestured between them. “What if they have a problem with, uh—”

“Two dudes being married?” he said dryly, cutting Danny off.

“Yeah. That.”

“Chin looked into that. Their political donations have been mostly to Republicans, not surprising considering their financial positions, but they attended a big gay rights fundraiser last year. And Paul and Barb have a gay daughter.”

“So we’re taking our chances.”

“Pretty much. Which means you gotta be extra charming.”

Danny snorted. “Come on. Charming is my middle name. It’s _you_ we need to worry about.”

“Hey,” he protested. “I can be very charming.”

“I agree,” Danny said, taking a sip of his coffee, “but sometimes you get too stuck in your whole military man vigilant robot thing. You gotta stay relaxed.”

“I’m relaxed!” he said, gesturing around to their room. “I’m on _vacation_ , I’m relaxed.”

Danny raised his hands in supplication. “Okay, okay, I believe you. You wanna go get lunch and see if we can track some of these guys down?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” he said, standing up. They each took a few minutes to get ready, and as they left their villa, Steve knocked Danny’s bicep with his elbow. “So you’re my _cute_ sidekick, huh?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, actually I take that back, I’d prefer ‘ruggedly handsome sidekick.’”

“You got it, Danno.”

* * *

Steve exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. He was sitting cross-legged behind Danny, trying to clear his mind as their instructor had directed. They’d had lunch out on the hotel patio and snagged seats at one of the communal tables, next to two of the couples they were looking for. Danny quickly befriended one of the wives, Jane, and they’d even gotten themselves invited along on a snorkeling excursion the following day.

Steve blinked and took in the view in front of him. The bunchy muscles of Danny’s shoulders and back were clearly visible through his thin t-shirt, and as Steve let his gaze drop, he was hit with a sudden spike of arousal, one that he hadn’t felt around Danny—or around guys in general, really—in a long time.

He’d always liked guys, actually, but in his line of work it was far easier to focus on women, not that Steve minded _that_ one bit. After all, he certainly never met a man worth jeopardizing his career over, just guys that he ran into every once and a while on leave that were useful for scratching a mutual itch. In fact, when he ran into Danny guns-first that one afternoon in his dad’s garage, he was attracted to him immediately. It was a secret that he would take to his grave, but his original plan was to drop a very heavy-handed hint and hopefully scratch said itch with this hot blonde guy. He’d never planned to stay in Hawaii after solving his dad’s case, so he wouldn’t have to deal with any kind of morning-after awkwardness—or the shame of Danny rejecting his advances.

But then they formed the team, Steve stayed, and Danny’s friendship quickly became _way_ too important for Steve to jeopardize it, especially over something as inconsequential as a random orgasm. There was never any indication that Danny was anything else other than straight, and with the way he and Catherine kept weaving in and out of each other’s lives, Steve truly just never really thought about it again. He’d always pictured that he’d settle down with a woman, probably Cath, while Danny was his best friend and so much more than that—he was _family_.

Steve’s heart rate had picked up, enough so that he could feel it thudding against his breastbone, and he quickly shut his eyes again to block out the view of Danny. He tuned back into the instructor’s voice and exhaled a shaky breath. Everything was going to be fine. This thing would pass, certainly—he was probably just lured by the forced closeness of their cover. Yeah, that was definitely it.

He zoned out for a little while, but when he opened his eyes again, he startled because Danny was no longer in front of him. He took a quick look around, but there was no sign of him—how could he have snuck out without Steve hearing? He stood up, with an apologetic smile for the instructor, and left the room. He checked the nearest bathroom, but it was empty. So with a sigh, he headed back to their villa—if he wasn’t there Steve wouldn’t know where else to look.

Steve spotted him, though, through the open French doors as soon as he stepped in the room, and his shoulders relaxed immediately. Danny was sitting by the edge of their pool, his feet dangling in the water, and Steve joined him, pressing their shoulders together. “Hey.”

He looked completely unsurprised to see Steve. “Hi. I’m sorry, you didn’t have to—”

“No, it’s fine,” Steve interrupted. “Everything okay?”

Danny huffed a humorless laugh and shook his head. “I don’t think meditation is for me.”

“Why not?” he asked softly, cataloguing Danny’s slumped shoulders and red eyes.

“It’s too…calming. Too hard for me to be angry.”

Steve smiled, unbidden, because that was such a Danny thing to say. “Not really seeing the problem there, Danno.”

He laughed once more, that terrible rough sound that Steve would really prefer to never hear again, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Because when I’m mad, when I’m upset, it’s impossible for me to be _sad_. You take away the anger, and _bam_. There it is. I have to deal with it.”

Steve felt his heart seize up, and he swallowed carefully. They hadn’t talked about this a whole lot, but it seemed like Danny was finally ready. “You’re talking about Charlie.”

He nodded. “I’m _hurt_ , Steve, really fucking hurt, and it’s just easier to be angry,” he said, splashing his foot in the water and looking down at it. “I mean, Rachel decided that she didn’t want to be married to me anymore, which…fine, whatever, got over that a long time ago. But then she decided, after I spent so many years working my _ass_ off to be the very best father I could be, that she would deny me access to my own son. And _lie_ about it. Being a father is the most important thing in my entire life, and she, the mother of my children, decided that I was not good enough at it.”

He paused to take a halting breath, and now _Steve_ felt the anger welling up. He had to quell his mental impulse to find Rachel and scream at her for breaking Danny’s heart, all over again. “Fuck her, man,” he spat, ignoring Danny’s wide-eyed look of surprise. “I’m serious. She’s just _wrong_ , Danno. You gotta accept that.”

“But—” Danny started, and Steve cut him off with a shake of his head.

“No. Stop talking and listen to me. She has this, this _authority_ over you because of the kids, and that’s giving her opinions more weight. But she’s wrong, so fucking wrong, and she was just being selfish. She wanted Charlie all to herself and didn’t want to share him with you. What she did was...it was beyond terrible. And you have to live with it, which sucks, but it says nothing about you and says everything about her,” he said, finishing his spiel slightly out of breath and surprised at how loud he’d gotten. “Do you understand me?”

“I, uh—I know I’m a good father,” Danny said, nodding with a little wince. “I do. But it’s impossible not to take it personally.”

“I know, and that sucks, buddy, it sucks so hard. But you are the best father I have ever, uh,” he said, stumbling over his own words as he tried to figure out what to say. “You are the best one I could even imagine. You know what Grace texted me the other day? She said goodbye, and she told me to look after you and keep you out of trouble. I mean, I doubt she had pretend marriage in mind, but I’m sure she’d approve.”

Danny’s laugh was small, but it was a real one this time, and Steve smiled. “Really?”

“For real,” he confirmed. “Charlie is so fucking lucky that he has you in his life now.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Danny said, bumping their shoulders together. “But I feel like shit all the time considering that I only know about Charlie because he got sick. So I guess I have to feel _thankful_ for that, sort of, which is just a whole cesspool of guilt.”

“No, no, no,” Steve interrupted again, shaking his head. “Don’t go there. That’s just how the world works, man. Charlie is better now, and you got to find out that you have a _son_. That’s the way things were supposed to happen. Just go with what the universe gave you.”

“And since when are you so spiritual, huh?”

“Hey, I meditated for a good half hour this afternoon,” he said with a little smirk, and Danny laughed again.

“Well, this has been embarrassing,” he said, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes, and Steve slung his arm over his shoulders to give him a little shake.

“Hey, c’mon. If you can’t break down in front of your best friend and fake husband, then who else is there?”

Danny laughed, a little wetly, and wiped his nose. “Good point.”

“Do you feel better?” he asked, unconsciously holding his breath for Danny’s answer.

“Yeah, actually,” he said, nodding slowly. “I do.”

The little smile on his face was the best damn thing Steve had ever seen. “Good.”

“But now it’s your turn, pal.”

“My turn for what?” he asked, confused.

“I just, like, spilled my _soul_ for you. You gotta give me something in return.”

“Oh,” he said, startled. “Well, I don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Yeah, right,” Danny said with a snort. “Let’s start with Catherine.”

Steve stiffened automatically, straightening his shoulders. “Yeah, let’s not,” he said as he got to his feet and turned to head back inside. “There’s nothing to talk about anyway.”

“I’m gonna make you talk about it!” he called out after him, and Steve gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the little voice in his head reminding him that Danny was just as stubborn as he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last week, I read [a wonderful essay in the Lenny Letter](http://www.lennyletter.com/life/a316/what-i-know/) (trigger warning for discussion of sexual assault), and it included this beautiful passage that inspired some of the conversations in this chapter: “I learned in therapy that anger is easier to feel, that when it’s present, it is near impossible to experience other, more anguishing emotions. My anger is carbon monoxide, binding to pain, humiliation, and hurt, rendering them powerless.”


	4. Chapter Four

Danny rolled out of bed with a grimace and padded awkwardly to the bathroom. After that yoga yesterday, he was pretty sure that his lower back would never be the same. He wasn’t yet convinced that human beings were supposed to move that way—though Steve certainly made it look easy.

The yoga master himself was awake, propped up on one elbow and running a hand through his hair, when Danny came back. ”Hey. Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s almost 7, I woulda been up soon anyway.”

“Yeah, about that,” Danny said as he settled back in bed and punched his pillow. “What happened to sleeping in on vacation?”

“It’s for the weak,” Steve said, unnecessarily climbing _over_ Danny to get out of bed. He grunted and kneed Steve, aiming for his stomach and catching him on the hip instead. “Ow.”

“What the fuck, man, you have your own side.”

Steve stretched, his back popping in a way that made Danny wince. “Yeah, but yours is closer to the bathroom.”

Danny rolled his eyes and flopped over to his other side, but no more than 60 seconds later, something was tugging at his elbow. “Go’way,” he slurred, but Steve only tugged harder.

“C’mon, let’s go for a run.”

Danny groaned and said a mental goodbye to the chances of him getting any more sleep. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I will give you the benefit of the doubt in that you don’t realize that this is crazy, this need to get up at the ass crack of dawn on vacation to go exercise, but it’s batshit insane, Steven.”

“Okay, but _technically_ this is work. Which means I’m in charge,” Steve said, but when Danny stayed silent and just blinked at him, he seemed to recognize the flimsiness of his reasoning and twisted his face into something resembling apology. “Please?”

“ _You_ are the one who keeps telling me that this is a vacation,” he said, pointing lazily. He groaned again, louder this time so Steve could really appreciate the extent of his sacrifice, but rolled out of bed anyway. God, this was worse than having a dog. “Fine.”

“Great,” Steve said, smiling in such a broad way that really didn’t do anything to hamper Danny’s dog comparison.

“You’re having trouble with this whole relaxing thing, aren’t you,” he said, not bothering to phrase it as a question, and Steve frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so… _adrenaline-fueled_. How are you functioning without criminals to chase down every day?”

“I’m managing,” Steve said, one side of his mouth lifting up in a little smile. “I do know how to relax, you know.”

Danny tilted his head and leaned closer. “Are you sure? I don’t think I’ve seen any evidence of that.”

“I slept until 7 yesterday, Danno,” he said, crossing his arms, and Danny smiled.

“Okay. Whatever you say, babe.”

“That was patronizing, but I’m gonna let it go,” Steve said, his voice muffled as he pulled off his shirt. It was something Danny had seen him do literally dozens of times—he was half-convinced Steve was a closet nudist—but this time, for some reason, Danny _looked_ , letting his eyes skitter over all that skin. Steve looked as good as he always did, sure, but right now, with the two of them standing almost chest-to-chest and right next to the bed they just shared, where the sheets were still rumpled and warm, it made something in Danny’s belly stir.

“Hello?”

Steve had his hands on his hips, and Danny shook his head, blinking a couple times. “Yeah, sorry, what? I think I’m still half-asleep.”

“I said, go get ready.”

Still a little shell-shocked, Danny nodded and obediently turned around. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar with these feelings, in the general sense. Back in college, after enough beer, he’d hooked up a few times with this guy who lived down the hall. And then there was that one time, shortly after Rachel, when he wanted to get off but didn’t want to be reminded of her in _any_ way. It was never anything serious or anything that he was going to change his identity over, but it was enough that he understood the appeal. He’d never really considered Steve in that light, though, because he was  _important_ , he was his partner and his best friend and his kids’ Uncle Steve. And Danny no longer had a lot of interest in random, alcohol-fueled fucks, anyway, which was the extent of his experience with men.

Steve was fiddling with something on the desk when Danny came back from the bathroom, and he turned around. “I talked to James yesterday, and he gave me an idea of where to go,” he said, gesturing, and Danny peered closer.

“Wait, do you seriously have a map drawn on your hand?”

“Yeah?” he said slowly, with that confused look on his face Steve liked to use when Danny was making a perfectly valid point he intended to ignore. “So?”

“What happens when you sweat it off?”

“I have a great sense of direction,” he said flippantly, and Danny laughed.

“Oh, so what you’re telling me is that we’re going to get lost in a Bali jungle. Fantastic.”

“First of all, it’s not really a _jungle_. The route he gave me is near the water and goes through the town, I think. And we’ll be fine, I promise.”

“You better hope so because Chin and Kono aren’t here to save our asses.”

“No one’s asses will need saving, except yours if you’re too slow to keep up,” Steve said, darting away when Danny reached out to poke him on the side. “You want some water?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He took a sip of the bottle Steve offered and then handed it back to him. Steve took a long drag, and Danny had to tear his eyes away from the long muscles of his throat. Jesus Christ, what the fuck was wrong with him? It was like some switch had been flipped. He was just confused, obviously, and had been lulled into a false sense of domesticity with all the bed sharing and the pretending and the ring wearing.

“So are you not going to put on another shirt?” Danny asked, gesturing vaguely.

“It’s hot outside,” Steve said, as if that was reason enough to torture and taunt Danny, as well as everyone else within a visible radius, with those abs and those tattoos.

“Fine, then, let’s go,” he said, gesturing for Steve to lead the way out of their villa. “How long are you planning to torture me?”

“It’s about four miles.”

“ _Four_ miles?” he asked, wrinkling his nose, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“C’mon, Danno, you’ll be fine. It’s obvious that you work out a lot.”

Danny paused for just a second to watch Steve run away from him—okay, maybe it was two or three seconds, ten _tops_ —before his words processed. “Hey, wait,” he called out, taking off after him. “Did you just give me a compliment?”

Steve, that asshole, turned around and jogged backward as he waited for Danny to catch up. “If I compliment you, will that make you run faster?”

“Oh, most definitely. I respond very well to praise.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, making Danny feel like he’d inadvertently given something away, but it lasted for just a second before his expression cleared. “Okay, come on.”

They ran for about 20 minutes, which Danny hoped was long enough to flood Steve’s blood with the necessary endorphins to get him talking. “So. Catherine,” he started, but Steve just grunted in response. Maybe not long enough, then. “Okay, I don’t know if I somehow gave you a different impression, but I do not, in fact, speak caveman. Use your words.”

Steve increased his pace, pulling away from Danny, and he tipped his head back with a groan. ”I cannot believe you, you are literally running away from this conversation!” he called out after him as he reluctantly sped up. Man, Steve was fast.

“Sorry, Danno,” he huffed, once they were side-by-side again. The only way to describe that grin was _shit-eating_. “Can’t really talk when I’m so out of breath.”

“Can you slow down a little please?” Danny said, panting more than was probably attractive. Not that he cared about that. “Not all of us have legs like gazelles.”

“Wait, was _that_ a compliment?” Steve asked, still grinning, but he slowed down immediately to a more sedate pace.

“No, I refuse to compliment anyone as emotionally-constipated as yourself. Start talking, then I’ll bring out the praise.”

“I am _not_ emotionally-constipated. I just—I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?” Steve said, his jaw clenched in frustration. “This is nice, c’mon, let’s enjoy it. I don’t wanna talk about her.”

Six years of efforts, and Danny still didn’t have the mental capacity to deny Steve anything when he had that soft, earnest look on his face. Fuck. “Fine. But I’m not letting you get out of this forever.”

“C’mon,” Steve said suddenly, turning off the road onto a small dirt path. “This way.”

“This better not be some kind of _shortcut_ that gets us lost. I will not appreciate that, I’ll tell you right now.”

“Wow, I’ve never seen someone use air quotes while running before,” Steve said, and Danny huffed.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“This is part of the route I promise,” he said, and sure enough, the little path they were on opened up to the beach a few minutes later. “This’ll take us right back to the resort.”

“Oh wow,” Danny said, deadpan. “Running _and_ sand, my two favorite things.”

“At least you’re with your favorite person, though, right?” Steve asked, grinning like a loon, and Danny couldn’t help but laugh.

“If I say yes, does that mean you’ll carry me the whole way back after I sprain my ankle in this damn sand?”

Steve laughed and shouldered him over to the waves. “Get closer to the water. The sand is harder and it’s easier to run on.”

It was, although he didn’t tell Steve that. They soon came upon the resort property, and Danny followed Steve up the little path to their villa. God, someone so sweaty should not be so attractive. “You truly reek, by the way,” he said, mostly to distract himself.

“First one to the door gets to use the fancy shower,” Steve said, once they were through the gate. He tilted his head, clearly looking for Danny’s confirmation, but he just smirked and used one firm hand on Steve’s chest to shove him into the pool.

“You can use the outdoor shower!” he called out over the indignant splashing before jogging into the bathroom and locking the door—it was well within Steve’s wheelhouse to do something ridiculous like chase him down and demand a rematch.

All was quiet, though, so Danny enjoyed a leisurely shower, long enough to get rid of the sand that had somehow gotten _everywhere_. When he was done, he poked his head out the French doors to see where Steve was. The outdoor shower was tucked around the other side of the villa, and therefore the only view Danny had was of Steve’s ass, which just so happened to be very nicely-shaped and several shades paler than the rest of his skin. Shit. He grimaced and closed his eyes—that was an extra image that he really did _not_ need, god. He ducked back inside and busied himself with the newspaper on the couch.

A couple minutes later, Danny tracked Steve out of the corner of his eye as he came inside, holding his towel around his waist. “How’s your knee?”

“Huh?” Danny asked, carefully keeping his eyes on the newspaper. Steve stepped into his field of vision then, though, and he was forced to look at him. He doggedly maintained eye contact and didn’t let his gaze drop.

“I said, how’s your knee? Is it hurting?”

“Uh,” he said, flexing it. “It’s a little sore, but not too bad.”

Steve nodded, apparently satisfied. “We still have a couple hours before we have to meet those guys for snorkeling. Let me get dressed, then I’ll go get some ice for your knee and grab us some breakfast.”

“Oh,” Danny said, surprised, as he sat up. “You don’t have to, I can—”

Steve shook his head and stepped closer, using a hand to block Danny from getting up. “Don’t worry about it.”

Danny froze for a second and watched as Steve disappeared into the bathroom. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m always nice to you,” he yelled back, and Danny rolled his eyes.

“Well, _that’s_ not true.”

“Would you rather I be mean to you?” he asked a minute later, after he came back dressed in shorts and a tank. Manfully, Danny ignored the bead of water that was sliding from Steve’s temple down to his neck.

“No, it’s just, uh, unusual. I mean, normally you would not be asking about my knee,” Danny said, gesturing to it, “let alone going to get me _ice_. You’d be telling me to buck up and bite on a bullet or something.”

Steve’s face fell a little bit, and Danny refused to feel bad about it. “Oh. Well, I’m trying to be better, I guess. You did go running with me this morning, after all. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Anything is fine. No pineapple, no coconut, you know the rules,” he said, and he smiled when Steve chuckled.

“Okay,” he said, swiping the key off the desk and heading for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

“If this is what relaxation looks like on you, I like it!” Danny called out after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is so fluffy and fun, I hope you like reading it as much as I like writing it! ♥


	5. Chapter Five

By the time they left that afternoon, Danny had a much better grip on himself. His new-found attraction to Steve was surely temporary—he’d just gotten a little too _into_ their cover, obviously. He would just be a little more careful, and he was sure everything would go back to normal.

It helped that he wasn’t seated next to Steve for the drive to the beach where they would be snorkeling. They were with two of the couples they were surveilling, and Tom had perked up when he found out Danny was from New Jersey and a fellow Yankees fan.

“So does that mean you’re from New York originally?” Danny asked.

“No, Boston, actually,” he said, and Danny hummed.

“Not a Red Sox fan, then?”

“Nah, they were so shitty when I was growing up that I became a Yankees fan.”

Danny laughed—pretty genuinely, he thought—but inwardly rolled his eyes. Man, this guy was a douche. If the lifetime of white collar crime wasn’t enough, he was an out-of-area Yankees fan. Those guys were the worst.

Thankfully, they soon pulled up to their destination, and even Danny could admit that this beach was beautiful, nearly deserted with white sand. “You don’t look completely miserable,” Steve said, coming up next to him.

“Yeah, well _this_ beach isn’t the worst one I’ve seen, I can tell you that much.”

“Wow, high praise there.”

“You know, are you sure you’re going to be comfortable snorkeling? Don’t you need to be in your full camouflage scuba gear to really feel at home?”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “You have weird ideas about what I did in the Navy. And did you know that ‘scuba’ is originally a Navy acronym?”

“Yes, actually, I did,” Danny said, with a solemn nod. “Self-contained underwater breathing apparatus.”

Steve had that little disappointed look on his face that he got when he didn’t get to teach Danny something, and Danny was _really_ screwed if he was starting to find that cute. “Oh.”

“I _have_ been scuba diving before, you know.”

Steve’s face lit up as fast as it fell, and he grabbed Danny’s arm. “Then we should go! We have to, c’mon.”

Danny opened his mouth to respond to that—he was going to start with _no_ —but he was interrupted by the young woman who was leading their tour.

“Hello, gentlemen,” she said, brushing past them. She smiled at Steve but then moved on without another word after her gaze flicked down to his hand. Danny grinned. 

“Hey, this ring thing isn’t so bad. At least it’ll be harder for you to abandon me to talk to girls,” he said, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on. I never do that.”

Danny scoffed but didn’t respond because even he could admit it was true—Steve had never really ditched him in that way. They grabbed masks and waded out several yards, away from the others. ”Jane looked like she could eat you with a spoon,” Danny said under his breath, and Steve laughed.

“She was very interested in our _art business_ , she wants to expand their collection.”

“Yeah? And how did you bullshit your way through that one?”

“I just kept asking questions,” he said, smirking. “She’s very talkative. How was Tom?”

“Ugh. He’s a Yankees fan, god.”

Steve tilted his head. “I thought _you_ were a Yankees fan.”

“Yeah, but I’m from Jersey, it’s allowed. He’s from Boston.”

“And that’s a problem because...”

“Only jackasses are fans of other, more successful teams when their own local team sucks.”

Steve nodded slowly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Wow, I had no idea,” he said, full of mock seriousness. ”We’ll add it to the charges when we arrest him.”

“C’mon, let’s get this whole snorkeling thing over with.”

“You’re not excited about snorkeling?”

“Well, you know me and the ocean.”

But as they got started, Danny surprised even himself with how much he was enjoying it. The water was clear, and Steve knew the names of a lot of the little colorful fish that darted in and out of the coral reef. Danny was studying a particularly energetic butterfly fish when Steve yanked him to the surface with a harsh grip on his arm. ”What the—” he sputtered, but Steve elbowed him in the ribs.

“Shh,” he said, jerking his chin. “Look over there.”  

Danny followed the line of Steve’s arm and inhaled sharply. “Oh, shit,” he breathed. Only about 30 yards from where they were standing, there was a small pool of dolphins. ”That’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, his smile so bright that Danny had to look away.

“Grace would kill to see this,” he said, swallowing hard against the sudden tightness in his chest. Fuck, he missed her.

Steve bumped their shoulders together. “We’ll tell her all about it.”

* * *

After snorkeling and dinner in town, Tom and Karen invited them to join everyone for drinks on the beach. Whatever they were doing must have been working because these people certainly seemed eager to be friends. They were annoying, certainly, but Danny could live with it when he got to lounge on a love seat and drink cold beer. It certainly wasn’t the worst undercover surveillance operation he’d ever been a part of. 

“Steve told me you two live on Oahu, I’m assuming in Honolulu?” Jane asked.

“We actually live outside the city,” Danny said with a smile. “Up in Mokuleia, on the North Shore. It’s lovely.”

“Oh, see, Dennis,” she said, swatting her husband on the arm. “I told you we shouldn’t just look in town. Let’s look at some other properties, expand our search.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, grabbing her hand and then turning to Steve. “Whatever you gotta do to keep the wife happy, right?”

Steve stammered something in vague agreement, and Danny tried to laugh through his gritted teeth. Steve was looking at him a little strangely, though, and he frowned. ”What?” he hissed. “I know I pronounced that correctly.”

“Oh, I know.”

“And I am not your _wife_ , shut the fuck up.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Good. You better keep it that way, or else you’re moving to the couch.”

“You’re not really helping your case there, Danno,” he said with a smirk. He dodged Danny’s jab of protest, grabbing his hand and sliding an arm around his shoulders in one smooth motion.

“Wha—” Danny resisted for a second, just on instinct, but Steve tightened his grip and held him still. 

“I am trying to make this look realistic,” he said, speaking quietly right into Danny’s ear and making him shiver, involuntarily. “So shut up and cuddle with me.”

Danny huffed but didn’t move away again, instead squirming to find a position against Steve’s surprisingly comfortable shoulder. This probably wasn’t helping his vow to keep his distance, he thought absently, but he could worry about that later. And he was actually feeling pretty drowsy from the running and the snorkeling and the sun and the beer, so he let the cacophony of voices wash over him and lull him into a doze.

* * *

Steve startled awake and flailed, twisting his head to catch a glimpse of the clock on the nightstand. It was 3:15, and there wasn’t anyone else in bed with him. A sliver of light peeked from the cracked bathroom door, though, so with his Danny radar mollified, Steve flipped over on his stomach and tried to go back to sleep. But then there was a retching noise, which must have been what woke him, and he was up and across the room before he even thought about it.

“Danno?” he said softly, pushing the bathroom door open, and the groan he got in response was truly pathetic.

Danny, who was on his knees in front of the toilet, threw up before sitting back on his heels and turning to look at Steve. ”I broke my streak.”

With a wince, Steve went over to the sink to dampen a washcloth and kneeled down beside Danny. ”I’m sorry, buddy,” he said, reaching over to flush the toilet.

“I don’t want to get you sick,” he said, protesting weakly, but Steve didn’t let him move away as he wiped his forehead and his mouth with the towel.

“I’m not gonna get sick. I’m sure it was something you had for dinner. We ate different things, remember?”

“In hindsight, eating at that tiny restaurant was not the best decision.”

In spite of the situation, Steve laughed. “Yeah, maybe not.”

“I am never eating fish again,” Danny said, barely managing to get the words out before he got sick again. “Ugh. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t worry about it. Do you want me to help you get back to bed?”

Danny shook his head. “Uh-uh. Not moving.”

“Okay,” Steve said with a nod. “Hang on then, just a sec.”

He remembered seeing an extra blanket in the closet, so he grabbed it as well as a pillow from the bed and the novel he’d been reading. “What is this?” Danny asked when he came back into the bathroom and shook out the blanket on the floor next to the toilet.

“ _This_ is a makeshift cot. C’mon, lay down,” he said. Danny’s shirt was soaked through with sweat, so Steve wrestled it off of him and tossed it in the corner before helping him to lie down.

“Are you one of those people who throws up when other people do?”

“Nope,” Steve said, shaking his head. He would _prefer_ to never see anyone get sick, obviously, but he had a strong stomach.

“Good. Then I’m making you take care of the kids next time one of them gets sick.”

Steve smiled and patted Danny’s thigh. “Anytime, buddy.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“No problem. So is this going to be a sick-out-of-both-ends situation, or...” he said, trailing off, and he grinned when Danny laughed.

“Don’t make me laugh, you jerk, it hurts. I think it’ll be just this end, but I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

With Danny momentarily settled, Steve sat down against the opposite wall and wiggled, trying to get comfortable. Shit, the floor was cold, and his ass was probably going to fall asleep soon.

Danny opened one eye and regarded him wearily. “You don’t have to stand watch, you know.”

“Shh,” Steve said absently as he stretched his legs out. As if he was going to leave Danny alone.

“What’s that?”

“This?” he said, gesturing with the book in his hand. “It’s a book, Danny.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Where did it come from?”

“There’s a whole pile in my nightstand.”

Steve read for a minute—this spy novel was _highly_ improbable—before Danny’s groan interrupted him. “Talk to me.”

“What?” Steve asked, confused.

Danny groaned again and turned his face further into his pillow. “God knows why, but your voice is calming. I  _should_  associate it with gunfire and explosions and potential bodily injury, which means there’s obviously something wrong with my brain. I should probably get that checked out.”

Steve bit back a smile. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“I don’t care,” he said, closing his eyes again. “Tell me all your classified secrets.”

Steve laughed. “Nice try. Did I ever tell you about the night we spent on leave in the red light district in Amsterdam?”

“No,” Danny said, smirking. “Did you get a hooker?”

Steve shook his head. “My buddy did, though, on accident.”

He told Danny that story and several others, taking breaks to rub his back and wipe his face when Danny got sick. The next few hours passed that way—Steve talking while Danny was awake and reading while he dozed—until finally, he looked at his watch. “You haven’t thrown up in an hour. Do you feel any better?”

“I feel like shit,” he said, scrubbing his hands down his face. “But I don’t think I’m going to be sick again right away.”

“You want a shower or back to bed?”

“Mmm,” Danny moaned. “Shower, definitely. I’m gross.”

“I will agree that this is not your most shining moment,” Steve said with a nod, grinning when Danny glared at him. “It’ll make you feel better. You want help?”

“No, I can shower by myself,” he said mulishly, and Steve didn’t bother to hide his smile. With the way his hair was sticking up in all directions, Danny bore more than a passing resemblance to a petulant kid. 

“Okay,” he said, standing up and reaching into the shower to flip the water on. “But the door’s staying open, and I’m gonna be right outside. Make it quick.”

While the water heated up, Steve went into the main room and grabbed a fresh change of clothes for Danny. He had managed to sit up by the time Steve came back, and he offered a hand to help him up. Danny stood up okay, but as soon as Steve let go, he almost fell over. “Nope,” he decided, sliding his arm around Danny’s shoulders to hold him steady. “Permission to shower alone has been rescinded.”

“Wow, your military talk really turns me on,” Danny said dryly, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m pretty dizzy,” he admitted, and Steve nodded.

“Let’s go, then.” He guided Danny into the shower and stood behind him, keeping his arm around Danny’s chest to hold him steady.

“But now you’re all wet.”

“That is correct,” Steve said with a laugh. “But I’ll survive. C’mon now, take off your boxers.”

Danny shook his head and braced one hand on the wall. “This is very embarrassing.”

“What, do you have a small dick or something?” Steve asked with a smirk, making Danny groan. “Oh, relax. I won’t look, I promise.”

Steve reached his free hand down between them to shove Danny’s boxers off his hips. He groaned again but didn’t make any movement to stop him. “You are _actually_ taking my underwear off right now.” 

“Yes, I am,” he said mildly. “You can tell everyone all about it later.”

“Oh, I will. I’ll tell ‘em how you manhandled me into the shower and stripped me, against my will.”

“It’s better than the alternative of you falling, cracking your head open, and then bitching about having to receive medical care on a small island where they don’t speak much English,” he said, and Danny paused.

“I refuse to concede the point.”

“Clean yourself,” Steve said, pressing the bar of soap into Danny’s hand. “There are limits to what I’ll do for you.”

Danny did, reluctantly, and as much as Steve wanted to sneak a peek, he kept his promise and fixed his gaze on the tile wall in front of him. “Do you want me to wash your hair?”

Danny snorted. “In your dreams, babe. I just wanna lie down.”

“Okay, we can do that,” Steve said. He turned off the water and helped Danny out of the shower, reaching for the robe that was hanging outside and helping Danny into it. “Brush your teeth, your clothes are over there.”

“You’re really bossy, you know that?” Danny said, but he carefully shuffled toward the sink and reached for his toothbrush.

Steve left the bathroom to strip off own wet clothes and change. When he came back, Danny was slumped against the wall, wearing his fresh boxers. “If you keep complaining, I _will_ carry you,”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You wanna try me?” he asked, returning Danny’s glare. The threat must have worked because Danny was quiet and pliant as Steve helped him back to bed. His eyes fell shut immediately, and Steve went over to the phone to call James. It was after seven, at least.

He answered on the second ring. “Hello, Mr. Tapper, what can I do for you?”

“Hi James, I’m sorry to call so early—”

“Not a problem at all, sir. How can I help?”

“Uh,” Steve said. It was so very weird to have someone at his beck and call like this, but he had to admit it was useful right about now. “Danny’s sick, actually.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said, with a sympathetic noise. “Would you like me to call for a doctor?”

“No, I don’t think so, I think it was something he ate. Is there a drugstore nearby where I can go pick up some things?”

“Oh, that’s not necessary, sir, I can bring you anything that you need.”

“But—”

“Mr. Tapper,” he said firmly. “Stay and take care of your husband.”

“Okay,” Steve said, swallowing hard. “Yeah, okay.”

“Wonderful. I can bring some medicine and some plain things for him to eat.”

“That would be really great, thank you. Could we also get some extra water?”

“Of course. Do I need to call housekeeping?”

“Well, so far he’s managed to keep everything in the toilet,” he said, making James laugh. “But I’ll let you know.”

“Good. I’ll be up shortly.”

Steve thanked him again and hung up the phone. Danny appeared to be sleeping peacefully, so Steve picked up the bathroom and then hovered by the door. He heard footsteps approaching and swung the door open before James could knock and potentially wake Danny. “Morning, sir,” he said, keeping his voice low, and Steve smiled.

“Steve, please. Thank you so much for doing this.”

“Of course,” he said, pushing a small cart into their room. “I’ve got your extra water, Gatorade, and some medicine, plus several bland foods.”

“This is really great,” Steve said.

“And I know you Americans like your peanut butter and jelly,” he said, gesturing to the loaf of bread and jars, and Steve laughed.

“That’s perfect, thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. I hope he feels better, and call me if you need anything else, okay?”

Steve promised he would and then shook James’s hand before showing him out. He hated to wake Danny, but Steve knew that he had to start taking in some fluids. He crouched down next to the bed and shook Danny’s shoulder gently until his eyes fluttered open. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he rasped.

“Do you want something to eat? I’ve got some very delicious plain toast.”

Danny winced and shook his head. “No. Definitely not.”

“You gotta drink, though, okay? You’re pretty dehydrated.”

“Not coconut,” Danny said, shaking his head, and Steve smiled.

“No, it’s just regular water, I promise. I also have Gatorade.”

“Do you have blue?”

“What?” Steve asked.

“Blue. It’s the best flavor of Gatorade,” he said, slurring the words into his pillow.

“Oh, yeah? And tell me, babe, exactly what flavor is  _blue_?”

“Blueberry?” he tried, smiling even with his eyes closed, and Steve laughed.

“You’re so full of shit,” he said, though he did choose the blue one and twisted off the cap. “Here, enjoy your artificial coloring.”

Danny sat up a little bit, enough that he wouldn’t dribble Gatorade everywhere, and took the bottle from Steve. “Mmm, delicious.”

He took several sips, enough to placate Steve, and then handed it back. “No more.”

“That’s fine. Good job, buddy, go back to sleep.”

Danny clumsily patted the blankets beside him. “You sleep, too.”

Steve wavered, but he _was_ pretty tired, and he had no reason to be awake, really. He was on vacation, after all. “Okay,” he said finally, circling the bed and sliding under the covers. He closed his eyes and let Danny’s heavy, steady breathing lull him to sleep.


	6. Chapter Six

As someone who normally jerked straight awake without passing “drowsy,” no matter the situation or time of day, Steve’s first hazy, half-asleep thought was one of vague alarm. He was too comfortable to get very worked up about it, though, so his eyes slid shut again, of their own accord. His radar wasn’t pinging anything dangerous or suspicious at the moment, just coziness and body heat and... Wait, what? Steve opened his eyes again, more alertly this time, and barely stifled a shout of surprise.

He was comfortable, sure, but he was also _cuddling with Danny_ , Jesus. And this was no incidental, casual cuddling, either. No, the way they were intertwined—his arm around Danny’s waist, Danny’s head tucked against his neck, their legs tangled—could only be described as a serious, full-body cuddle. Clearly something was wrong with his radar because this was nothing _but_ dangerous, for Steve’s sanity, at the very least. He managed to untangle himself without waking Danny, which was a minor miracle, and rolled to the other side of their bed. Their very _large_ bed, he reminded himself sternly, which didn’t allow any plausible deniability of cuddling. Shit, this was a new low, cuddling someone—his friend, his sick friend, to be more specific—without their consent.

Steve swiped a hand down his face and tried to take a deep breath, which was more difficult than usual considering that it felt like something heavy was sitting on his chest. This big bed still felt way too close for comfort, so Steve escaped into the bathroom. A shower would make him feel better, probably, so he flipped the water on and stripped. The hot water felt good, but it didn’t really do anything to ease the tension in his mind.

He really wasn’t sure what was going on. He’d worked and been friends with literally hundreds of guys, and he’d never been attracted to any of them. Thought some were attract _ive_ , maybe, sure, but there was a giant gulf between attractive and attracted and he’d never crossed it with any man he actually knew.

But then there was Danny. Literally, how was it possible to be attracted to someone who threw up in his vicinity only a few hours ago? Very possible, his dick reminded him, and he groaned. God, he was attracted to Danny even when he was _sick_ , he was so screwed.

He had been doing a pretty good job over the past couple days at keeping a lid on his feelings, he thought, but it was getting harder to keep the hatches battened down. Maybe he just needed to admit it, to get it out in the open— _figuratively_ , not literally, god. This clearly wasn’t going away without a fight, after all, and Steve had to acknowledge that he had a crush—though that sounded ridiculous—on his best friend. Fuck.

As soon as he did, though, as soon as he opened that mental box just a crack, he was hit with a flood of images and scenarios, some real and some _very_ imaginative, that got him hard so fast his head spun. He shot out a hand for balance and didn’t even try to resist, just immediately dropped the other hand to his dick. It was quick, embarrassingly so, and Steve gasped as he came, blinking his eyes open to clear the images from his brain. It didn’t really work.

He turned the water to cold for a long second, for punishment as much as anything, and shivered as he patted himself dry and got dressed. He crept back into the bedroom, where Danny was starting to stir. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” Danny said, his voice creaky and rusty. “What time is it?”

“Early afternoon. How’re you feeling?”

Danny sat up, though it looked like it took some effort, and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Pretty shitty. I don’t think I’m going to throw up again, though.”

“That’s good. You want something to eat?” he asked, but Danny grimaced immediately.

“God, no. No food, definitely not.”

Steve smiled and gestured to the bottles he’d put on Danny’s nightstand. “Okay. You gotta keep drinking, though.”

“Deal. As long as I don’t have to eat.”

Steve kept a watchful eye as Danny levered himself up gingerly, but he seemed steady enough as he ventured for the bathroom. Steve settled on the couch and picked up the remote, flicking through the channels on their absurdly-large TV. When Danny came back, he gestured at it. “There’s a Bond movie marathon on,” Steve said, and Danny perked up a little bit.

“Ooh. Which one are they on?”

“Die Another Day is about to start.”

“Fantastic. Hey, come back,” he said, crawling back into bed and patting the other side— _Steve’s_ side. “View’s better from here, anyway.”

Steve took a deep breath, held it, and released it in a rush. “Okay. Is it gonna bother you if I eat?”

“Nah, as long as it doesn’t smell strong,” he said, watching as Steve crossed the room to their fridge. “Where did all that food come from?”

“I called James this morning, and he brought a bunch,” Steve called out over his shoulder. He microwaved a small bowl of oatmeal and grabbed a banana before carefully settling back into bed.

“Thanks for—you know,” Danny said, gesturing vaguely. “You didn’t have to take care of me, I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, come on, what else are fake husbands for?”

Danny laughed and readjusted the pillows behind him, then returned his attention to the TV. “Damn, Halle Berry’s hot in this movie.”

Steve hummed in agreement and wolfed down his oatmeal. “Yeah. Almost as hot as your hair looks right now,” he said, smirking when Danny groaned.

“You’re the worst,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair in a futile attempt to smooth it.

At the first commercial break, Steve spoke up again. “So, last night.”

“Oh, yeah,” Danny said, shifting on his side to face him. “Anything useful?”

“Well, after someone fell asleep on my arm…” he said, shooting Danny a mock glare. Danny smacked said arm, making him laugh. “I think we’re making progress, I think they were referencing some kind of deal that’s supposed to happen soon. I heard some names, which I wrote down, so hopefully we can get more details.”

“Do you know when they’re supposed to move to Hawaii?” Danny asked. “Because our cover isn’t going to last long once they’re there.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to move quickly,” Steve said with a nod. “A couple months, I think, we’ll have to try to get an exact date.”

Eventually, near the end of Casino Royale, Steve stretched and stood up. “Okay, you gotta eat, buddy.”

Shaking his head, Danny winced and wriggled further under the covers. Steve refused to consider it cute. “Do I have to?”

“Yep,” he said, tearing his gaze away and heading for the kitchen. “I’ve got just the thing.”

Steve toasted four slices of bread and then carefully slathered them all with peanut butter and jelly. He made two sandwiches, ensuring that the edges lined up perfectly, and cut them into triangles. After sliding them onto plates and grabbing a bowl of fruit that James had brought, he headed back toward the bed.

Danny took the plate, reluctantly, and brought it to his nose for a sniff. “What is this?”

“ _That_ is a toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” he said, stuffing one triangle into his mouth and talking around it. “It’s what my mom used to make for me when I was sick.”

Danny smiled, that sweet one that made his eyes crinkle, and looked over at Steve. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, letting himself luxuriate in the happy childhood memory for only a second. “You think you can stomach it? You really should eat something.”

Danny took a tiny nibble of one corner, then his eyes lit up and he took a slightly bigger bite. “Hey, this is really good.”

“Good,” Steve said, trying to ignore the pleasant churning in his gut. “I’m glad.”

* * *

There was another loud splash behind Danny, and the water felt cool against his calves. Grinning, he made sure his feet were steady before sneaking a peek between his legs. “Shut up,” Steve hissed, shaking his head like a dog as he struggled to get back on his board. 

They were doing paddleboard yoga, which Danny did not even know _existed_ until about an hour ago. He thought it was incredibly dumb at first glance, of course, but his opinion was quickly changing just because Steve was so unbelievably bad at it. Danny didn’t really get it, actually—Steve was a pretty decent surfer and these boards were bigger, sturdier—but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

Finally, mercifully for Steve, they were done, and Danny spun around to grin at him, still endlessly amused. “Wow. You were—just really great, babe.”

“It’s not fair,” Steve said, the corners of his mouth drawn down in a pout. “You have a lower center of gravity.”

“Wow, are you jealous of my height? That’ll be a first. Who knew it would come from paddleboard yoga, Jesus Christ.”

“No, no, no, I can do it,” Steve insisted as he stretched one leg out behind him and balanced on the other foot. “Look, I’ve got it.”

He had it, all right, but he was also shaking like a leaf, and Danny laughed until his stomach hurt. Steve cracked up, too, enough so that he eventually couldn’t stand anymore, not even on two feet, and had to sit down. Danny managed to stay upright, at least until Steve rocked his board and sent him flying off the front.

He came up with a splash, gasping for breath and trying not to swallow ocean water, and Steve was still laughing while Danny clambered back up onto his board. “I don’t think I have ever,” Danny said, desperately trying to catch his breath, “in my life, seen you so carefree.”

“Oh,” Steve said suddenly, looking surprised, and if it were lighter outside, Danny would swear that he was blushing.

“It’s a good look on you, babe,” he said, trying to stop his voice from being as soft as it wanted to.

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

Steve was fucking staring at his _mouth_ , and Danny’s chest suddenly felt way too tight. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like…like—”

“How am I supposed to look at you?” Steve asked, clearly going for casual but missing by a mile. Danny tried to scoff, but he was pretty sure it came out more like a pathetic whimper.

“Careful, otherwise I’m going to think we’re _actually_ married,” he said, but the joke tasted bitter in his mouth and he curled his lip.

Steve’s gaze sharpened, and Danny recognized that look, that was his _determined_ look. His heart rate sped up, as it always did in the face of that look, but this time Danny wasn’t so worried about his immediate physical safety, just his sanity. Steve rested a hand on Danny’s board for balance and leaned forward—to do _what_ Danny had no idea—but then pitched forward with a jolt when their boards jostled.

Danny looked back over his shoulder. “Oops, sorry, gentlemen!” Barb called out, smiling down guiltily at them from her board. “These things are so hard to steer!”

Danny waved at her and forced a smile. “Don’t worry about it!”

“C’mon,” Steve said, settling back onto his board and pulling himself to his feet. “It’s nice, let’s paddle some more and watch the sunset.”

Danny stood up and paddled after him. “Okay, but only if you talk about Catherine. And if you try to paddle away to get out of it, I’ll just catch up with you when you fall,” he said, barely managing to get the words out before he was hit with another fit of the giggles.

Steve scowled at him, though it had a friendly tinge. “Making fun of me is not a good way to encourage me to talk.”

“I’m sorry, babe, really,” he said, still laughing. “But you’re so good at everything, you gotta let me have this one.”

“But if I talk about Catherine, you have to talk about Melissa.”

Danny scowled. “That’s different.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you and Cath are…are _weird_ , and unsettled. Melissa and I are just over.”

“Really? You sure about that?”

He sighed. “Yeah. It just wasn’t—I don’t know. I think we were both using each other. Not in a bad way,” he hurried to add. “It’s just...we were easy.”

“Easy’s not always bad,” Steve offered, but Danny shook his head.

“For us it was, I think. We never really dealt with anything. She didn’t make me handle my shit, and vice versa. Two years—it was like two years, Steve, and I never told her I loved her.”

Steve winced. “Did you?”

“I don’t know,” Danny said, his gaze dropping to the stripes on his board. “That’s probably not good, either.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“Well, that’s how it goes, I guess. And you successfully distracted me, congratulations. Your turn.”

Steve gritted his teeth and paddled a little more vigorously so he was in front of Danny. “Fine,” he called out over his shoulder. “What do you want to know?”

“I just want to know how you’re doing! Just a general emotional checkup,” Danny said. His shoulders were getting tired, to be honest, and as much as he wanted to stop and sit down, he figured that if he was making Steve talk about his _emotions_ , heaven forbid, he would at least feel a little more comfortable on the move.

“Well,” Steve said. “I’m kinda pissed.”

“That is a wonderful start,” Danny said, making a _go on_ gesture with his hand. “Keep going. Why are you mad?”

“Because now Catherine is just another name on the long list of people who have lied to me,” he said, his voice low, and Danny winced. He knew it, of course, but it still hurt to hear Steve say it.

“That really sucks, man, I’m sorry.”

“Part of the reason I liked Catherine was because it kept me connected to that life. And I _get_ it, I really do, I understand the secrecy and the hiding and the lies.”

“But you don’t like it,” Danny guessed, and Steve shook his head.

“I fucking hate it. I don’t _want_ that life anymore. It doesn’t make me happy, and I don’t think it’s good for me.”

Danny blinked. “I think that’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” he said, and Steve laughed.

“I mean, I still care—I hope she’s okay, and if she’s connected to my mom in any way, I wanna know about it. But I’m not hoping she comes back, and if she does, I’m not going to do anything about it.”

“Wow. What led to that epiphany?”

“You’ve never lied to me,” Steve said suddenly.

Startled, Danny shook his head. “Nope,” he said, lowering his voice. “I haven’t.”

“And you call me on my shit and actually make me deal with it. As much as I may hate it, I really appreciate that, man.”

Danny nodded slowly, lost for words. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him, so he decided to change the subject. “Pretty, huh?” he asked, gesturing to the sky. The sun seemed like it was dropping right in front of them, reflecting red-gold over the water.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a sigh. Abruptly, he stopped paddling and sat down cross-legged. Danny pulled up next to him and tried to copy Steve’s position, far less gracefully. He curled one leg up but kept his bad knee stretched out and leaned back on his hands. Though Steve didn’t seem distressed or upset, he also didn’t really look like he wanted to talk anymore, so Danny just kept his mouth shut and watched the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The _next_ chapter is my favorite one. ;)


	7. Chapter Seven

“You hungry?” Steve asked. He wiggled to the edge of the daybed he was lying on and reached out his foot to jostle the hammock, where Danny had been reading and possibly napping.

“Hmm?” he asked, his voice a little slurred, and Steve would bet a hundred bucks that his eyes were closed behind his sunglasses.

“I asked if you were hungry. That is, if I’m not interrupting your nap.”

“M’not napping,” Danny said, tossing his book aside and flopping onto his side. The hammock rocked wildly, and Steve tried to catch it with his foot.

“I beg to differ, sleepyhead.”

Danny slid his sunglasses up to his hair and regarded Steve with one skeptical eye. “Did you say something about food?”

“I did. I’m hungry, you wanna go grab dinner? Or we can get room service.”

“Nah, let’s go,” he said. He stretched broadly, his t-shirt riding up to reveal a fuzzy strip of skin, and Steve was suddenly very grateful for his own sunglasses. “As soon as I get up the energy to move, that is.”

Well, Steve couldn’t resist a challenge like that. He stood up with a stretch of his own and towered over Danny in the hammock. “Let’s go. Or else I _will_ tip you over onto the grass.”

Danny gasped, more than a little dramatically, and clutched his fingers in the ropes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Danny didn’t budge, he just stared up at Steve with those bright, stubborn blue eyes and a wry twist to his mouth. So he pounced, sneaking his hands under Danny and trying to twist him out. Danny was sly, though, and didn’t go easily. He somehow got Steve’s legs out from underneath him—he had no idea where that arm came from, seriously—and caused him to fall _into_ the hammock. Danny managed to roll out, land on his feet, and flip Steve down onto the ground before he even knew what happened.

The ground was soft but he still grunted as he landed, taking the brunt of his weight on his shoulder and breathing in the smell of the grass. Danny stepped over him calmly and headed inside. “C’mon, slowpoke, what are you waiting for? It’s dinner time, and I’m hungry,” he called out over his shoulder, and Steve grinned to himself for a second before he scrambled to his feet and followed him.

* * *

“Danny!”

Steve turned to see Angie, who was half-standing in her chair and waving happily at them from her table with the three other wives. “Come sit with us!”

Danny waved back and touched Steve’s elbow to guide him in that direction. “Man, these ladies really love you,” Steve said under his breath as they wound their way through the tables, and Danny chuckled.

“I mean, can you blame them,” he said, gesturing at himself with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m very lovable.”

Steve just barely managed to stop himself from agreeing out loud.

“Hello, hello,” Jane said, rearranging the chairs so that there were two empty spots between her and Karen. “Perfect timing, we haven’t even ordered yet.”

“Hi, ladies,” Steve said, letting his mouth slacken into a grin. “You all are looking lovely tonight.”

Karen giggled and patted him on the arm. “Aren’t you sweet. What did you boys get up to today?”

“Not too much,” Danny said, tilting in his chair to face Steve. “Went for a swim, took a couple naps.”

“Oh, we get it,” Barb said with a wink. “Honeymooning.”

Yeah, he wished. Steve hummed in vague agreement, grinning back at her, and took a long drag off the beer that had appeared in front of him. Danny leaned over, under the guise of reaching for his own beer, and brushed his lips over Steve’s cheek. “Hey, hey,” he hissed, grabbing Danny by the forearm and lowering his voice. “What the hell are you doing?”

“We’re supposed to be married. We can’t really avoid kissing.”

“Oh, we most certainly can,” Steve said, fighting a blush. That would be a little too close for comfort. “We’ll just be one of those couples who aren’t big into PDA.”

Danny looked pointedly down at his arm and then back up at Steve. “I touch you literally all the time. And vice versa.”

Steve winced and removed his hand. “Okay, valid point. No heavy PDA, then.”

“What about you all?” Danny asked, raising his voice again. “Fun day?”

“Oh, yes,” Angie said. “We spent the entire day at the spa, which was lovely. All the _boys_ are still off doing business.”

“But enough about them,” Jane said with a twinkle in her eye as she leaned closer to Danny and propped her chin in her hand. “We want to know more about the newlyweds. Tell me, which one of you proposed?”

Steve huffed an awkward laugh because _fuck_ , they should have talked about this and come up with a cover story. He opened his mouth to say _something_ , anything, but Danny beat him to it.

“Oh, that was me,” he said with a laugh, bumping Steve’s shoulder with his own. “I wasn’t sure if this one would ever get the balls to ask.”

“And how’d you do it?” Angie asked. “C’mon, you gotta tell us.”

Danny laughed again, a little shyly this time as he dropped his gaze. “Ah, you guys don’t really—”

“Oh, honey, we _really_ do,” Jane interrupted with a sly smile. “Come on now.”

“Yeah, babe,” Steve said, grinning shamelessly. He wanted to see where this went. “It’s such a great story, you should tell it.”

Danny pinched him high on his thigh, making him jerk in his seat and grab his hand to yank it away. “Okay, okay, fine,” he said, lifting his hands in supplication. “So for our, uh, our first date, we went on this hike. It ended up being awful, actually, because Steve ended up falling off a cliff and breaking his arm, but before that it was very nice. He showed me this beautiful spot that he shared with his father, who had recently passed away, and it was very, uh, very special.”

Steve blinked, his mouth slightly agape. Shit, where the hell did that come from? He wished he could see Danny’s face, but he was turned away from him, facing Jane.

“Oh my gosh, and that’s where you proposed, isn’t it?” Angie asked, and Danny nodded.

“Yep. Did the surprise, the picnic, the whole nine yards.”

“And you just couldn’t say no, could you?” Jane asked Steve, smiling.

“Ah, nope,” he said, trying to smile through his shock. “Definitely not.”

“Okay, okay, now tell us about the wedding,” Barb said, clapping her hands, and Danny laughed.

“Your turn,” he said, elbowing Steve in the ribs with an impish smile.

“Well. We, uh, we live on the beach,” he started—because that was easy. “So we got married there. It was small, just family and a few friends, very nice.”

“Do you have any pictures?” she asked, and Steve froze.

“We don’t have them back from the photographer yet, unfortunately,” Danny cut in smoothly. “I think I might have one on my phone, though.”

He dug his phone out of his pocket and fiddled with it for a minute before handing it to Jane, who gasped. ”Oh my goodness, look at the two of you, so handsome. Barb, look at this.”

“Wait, what did you show them?” Steve asked lowly. He was confused—had Chin been busy with Photoshop?

“One from Kono’s wedding,” he whispered, and Steve nodded. Wow, Danny was quick on his feet.

The phone ended up in Steve’s hands after making its way around the table, and he glanced at it. He didn’t think he’d ever even seen the photo before, actually—it was just the two of them, clearly with no idea that they were being photographed. They were laughing and looking at each other, with Steve’s arm slung over his shoulders and Danny’s hand on his stomach.

It looked exactly like a wedding photo. Huh.

“Who took this?” he asked quietly, handing the phone back to Danny.

“Grace. She sent it to me.”

Steve nodded. “I like it. Send it to me, too.”

Steve didn’t approve of their husbands’ choice of careers, but these women were pleasant enough to be around, and he enjoyed their dinner. It was hard not to, though, with the way Danny kept invading his personal space, poking and prodding at him and snatching things off his plate. Jane had invited them all to continue the evening at her villa, and as they walked over, Steve enjoyed the light sprinkle of rain against his skin.

He hung back from the others just a bit and leaned down to speak quietly to Danny. “That was quite the story you pulled out of your ass back there.”

“Yeah, well, secret romantic, that’s me,” he said, not quite meeting Steve’s gaze. He wanted to say something in response, but Barb called them out for being slowpokes and they hurried to catch up.

* * *

Steve struggled with their outdoor gate, finally forcing it open as Danny laughed behind him. The rain had picked up quite a bit, and he laughed, too, stumbling a little bit on the slippery stones. There had been a _lot_ of alcohol after dinner, and he was definitely drunk. Danny was too, if the way he was kicking off his shoes was any indication.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Steve said, laughing as he tried to tug him inside, out of the driving rain. But Danny wriggled out of his grip and held up one finger as the other hand dropped to work at his belt.

“One. I am drunk.”

Steve bit back a smile. “Yeah, I see that. So am I.”

“Two, it’s raining.”

“Correct,” Steve said, nodding several times. It was hard to concentrate when Danny was pushing down his pants. He stumbled when he kicked them off, but Steve shot out a hand and kept him on his feet.

“Four—”

“Three,” Steve interrupted, and Danny cocked his head.

“Huh? What, three what?”

“Three, you skipped three. What’s three?”

“Oh, yeah. We have a pool. And it’s raining. And I’m drunk.”

“Still not seeing the point here, Danno.”

“The _point_ , Steven,” he said, clearly exasperated as he tugged his shirt over his head, “is that I have always wanted to swim in the rain. That seems kinda silly, sure, but I’m drunk right now and ergo, I don’t care.”

“Okay,” Steve said, laughing. He ran a hand over his wet hair. “You just said _ergo_ , you can’t be that drunk.”

“My vocabulary is im—” Danny paused, clearly thinking, and then waved his finger triumphantly, “ _impervious_ to my level of sobriety. Or lack thereof, in this case.”

With a happy yell, Danny spun around and cannonballed into the water. Steve automatically shielded himself from the spray, which was ridiculous considering that he was already dripping wet.

Danny popped up out of the water and slicked his hair back, his biceps bunching. “What, are you gonna make me swim alone?” he called out.

Steve gulped. “Uh—”

“Oh, come on. Normally I can’t get you _out_ of the water,” Danny said, and it was the fondness that did it, the little curl of his half-smile that made Steve reach for the button on his shorts.

“What if I’m not wearing underwear?” he asked, his hands stilling on his waistband, and Danny scoffed.

“Oh, please. I can tell when you’re not wearing underwear,” he said. Steve didn’t respond, choosing instead to just raise his eyebrows, and Danny winced. He waved both hands in the air as if he was attempting to erase his words. “Yeah...can we, uh, just forget that I said that? C’mon, swimming, let’s go, in the water. We all know you’re wearing boxers.”

Steve was, of course, so he pushed his shorts down and shelved _that_ thought for when he was more sober. He stripped off his shirt and dove smoothly into the deep end, swimming all the way to the far wall before coming up for air. He was at the perfect level of drunkenness—everything was just bright and happy and hadn’t yet veered into maudlin or sad or disoriented or belligerent—and from the looks of it, Danny was there, too.

“I’m always gonna remember this, by the way,” he said, drifting through the water toward Danny. “You _begging_ me to swim with you. You’ll never live this one down.”

“I’ll deny it,” he said smoothly, flipping over to float on his back.

“Yeah? Are you also gonna deny _this_?” Steve asked, lunging through the water and digging his fingers into Danny’s ribs.

He yelped, even more spectacularly than Steve had hoped, and twisted away, flailing with a giant splash. “What the fuck?” he said, trying to catch his breath. “How in the world did you know I was ticklish? That is a closely-guarded secret, my friend.”

“Grace told me,” Steve said with a shrug. “Long time ago.”

He advanced slowly on Danny, but he was still laughing and kept backing away. “I’ll have to yell at her for that.”

Danny was backed into a corner now, and his eyes widened as Steve crept closer. Steve let him sweat for a minute before lifting his hands. “I won’t. No more, I promise.”

Danny laughed, blowing a breath out through his nose. “God, you’re so...” 

Steve had to clench his fists and let the pain of his nails digging into his palms distract him from the need to reach out for him. “What?” he asked softly.

Danny moved away suddenly, and the sudden lack of his body heat made Steve shiver in the cool water, despite the warm rain on his face. “Shit, I’m drunk,” Danny said, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Is it dangerous to swim when you’re drunk?”

“In the ocean, yeah,” Steve said slowly, adjusting to the abrupt subject change. “I think we’ll be okay in here, the water isn’t very deep. And it’s not like we’re blackout drunk or anything.”

“And you’d save me, right?”

They’d drifted into deeper water, where Steve could stand but Danny couldn’t, and as he treaded water, his feet kept bumping against Steve’s knees. “I’d, uh, what?”

“You’re a SEAL, surely you know how to save someone who’s drowning.”

“Well, yes. But please don’t drown.”

“Okay, then,” Danny said, slinging his arms around Steve’s neck. “You’re so goddamn tall, I’ll just hang on.”

“We could just move to shallower water,” Steve said, tensing. Sober Danny was affectionate and touchy enough—he wasn’t sure that he could handle drunk Danny. Especially when he was _also_ drunk. He could imagine so clearly how warm Danny’s skin would be under his hand, but he somehow resisted the urge and kept his hands fisted by his sides.

“No, I’m good here,” he said lazily, tilting his face up into the rain. It was pretty dark, with the only light coming from the dull moon and their porch light, but Steve still watched greedily as the rain slid down Danny’s neck. This was veering into dangerous territory, and he really needed to get out of the pool, if only his legs would obey.

But then both of Danny’s legs came up to wrap loosely around his waist, and Steve swallowed a gasp, he couldn’t help it. He also couldn’t control his hands anymore, so one drifted to the curve of Danny’s waist—under the guise of balance, he hoped. His skin was _hot_ , even more so than he had imagined, and Steve closed his eyes, letting the warmth seep into his own skin.

Danny’s eyes were on him, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove his hand. He did open his eyes, though, blinking the rain away, and was still startled by Danny’s sharp blue eyes boring straight into him.

“Fuck, Steve,” he said around a long exhale, rubbing away a line of raindrops on Steve’s jaw with his thumb. “Tell me if I’m wrong, tell me if this isn’t—”

The last thread of Steve’s self-control finally snapped, and he lunged forward, cutting Danny off with his lips. His mouth was already open, which was useful, and the noise he made was just tremendous, surprised and relieved and hungry all at once. Steve had a momentary flash of panic at his impulsive action, but Danny just tightened his grip and pulled Steve closer. Already off-balance under the onslaught, Steve drifted forward until he could push Danny up against the wall of the pool.

He twisted the fingers of one hand into Steve’s hair and tugged him into a different angle, deepening the kiss and making Steve gasp. Danny’s mouth was sly and hot, and he eagerly licked at the yeasty flavor of beer until all he could taste was Danny. His other hand was on the move, sliding down Steve’s chest and then around to his back and down to his ass. Steve groaned, torn between pushing back against Danny’s hand or forward to relieve some of the pressure on his dick. He’d been half-hard ever since he got in the pool and there certainly wasn’t anything halfway about the situation _now_ , so he quickly amended his level of drunkenness in his head—definitely not drunk enough to have whiskey dick, thank fuck.

Danny pulled back with a gasp, which would have worried Steve if his hand wasn’t still under his boxers, clutching his ass. “What’s going on, why aren’t we kissing anymore,” he asked, seamlessly shifting his kisses to Danny’s neck.

“So Grace—”

“I love Grace, but why are we talking about her right now?” He bit down, gently, and Danny arched in his grip, gasping. His next bite wasn’t quite so gentle, and he worried the skin with his teeth and tongue.

“Well, you know she’s started those sex ed classes—” Danny said, satisfyingly breathless as he stumbled over the words.

“Yeah, I know, I had to talk you off the ledge when you found out about it.”

“And she was talking about this ‘affirmative consent’ thing, especially when there’s alcohol involved—”

Steve huffed a laugh and moved his mouth back to Danny’s, cutting him off again. “I’m consenting,” he said against Danny’s lips. “ _Enthusiastically_. Are you?”

Danny groaned in relief, pressing his dick harder against Steve’s stomach, and he figured he was pretty safe with taking that as a _yes_. “Just—off, off, take them off,” he muttered, shoving ineffectually at Steve’s boxers.

He pushed them down easily and reached for Danny’s, but they got tangled around his knees. So Steve stepped back, holding Danny off with a hand on his chest, and wrenched all the fabric off, letting it float away. Steve gathered him back up in his arms again, high enough that Danny had to tilt his head down a little bit to kiss him. Danny’s tongue was eager and playful, and Steve leaned into it when Danny tugged on his lower lip.

Danny’s dick scalded his palm in the cool water, and he eagerly wrapped his hand around the thick weight of it, impossibly gratified when Danny broke the kiss and tossed his head back. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , Steve,” he gasped.

“Yeah?” he asked, out of breath himself, but Danny just groaned in response.

“Shit, god. Faster, c’mon.”

If Steve had full control, he’d want to take this slower, to get as much as possible of this Danny, the one that was loose and relaxed and coming apart at the seams. But he was drunk and needed everything rightfucking _now_ , so he obeyed. And he didn’t regret it, not when Danny whined so sweet and thrashed in his grip.

His lower lip was caught in between his teeth, and Steve couldn’t resist leaning forward and teasing it out with his tongue. Steve twisted his wrist in response to Danny’s groan, rubbing his thumb against the head of Danny’s dick on every pass and then doing it harder when Danny squirmed in delight.

“Oh, oh, oh,” he chanted. “God, don’t—”

Danny muffled his shout against Steve’s neck and thrust forward hard, coating Steve’s hand in come for a too-brief instant before the water washed it away. God, it was hot as hell, having Danny fall apart under his hands like this, and he was breathing as hard as Danny was. Danny held on tight, lax and heavy in Steve’s arms, and panted for a long second against Steve’s neck. The hot rush of breath against his rain-soaked skin caused him to shiver and his dick to twitch, making Danny laugh.

“Whaddya want, babe? C’mon, tell me what you want,” he whispered into his ear, punctuating his words with a sharp tug on his earlobe, and Steve groaned. He wanted to suck Danny’s cock, he wanted to fuck him, he wanted to _be_ fucked, but he was _drunk_ and sure as fuck wasn’t moving, so it was all he could do to hold on and shove his dick against Danny’s stomach.

“Fuck, Danny, I want— _shit_ ,” he said sharply. He whimpered, frustrated by all that he wanted and couldn’t say, but Danny just shushed against his skin, nosing his way down Steve’s jaw to his lips.

“I gotcha, babe, don’t worry,” he said against his mouth as he slid one hand down to curl around his dick. “I’m here.”

There were words in Steve’s head— _I never worry when you’re around_ —but they had no chance of making their way to his mouth, not when everything in his body was focused on the singular goal of thrusting into Danny’s hand. His grip was calloused and rough, and it was the best thing Steve had ever fucking felt. “Harder,” he managed to gasp, through the roaring in his ears, and Danny obeyed. “Fuck, I’m—”

“You gonna come?” Danny said, his voice low, the words smudged together. “Yeah, fuck yeah. C’mon, come for me, babe.”

Steve’s nerves felt frayed, everything tender to the touch, and he cried out when he finally came, pressing his open mouth to the curve of Danny’s neck. His fingers clenched on Danny’s ass, and he panted harshly, praying that they hadn’t just ruined everything.


	8. Chapter Eight

Danny knew the second he woke up that Steve was gone.

It’d taken only a week for him to get used to Steve’s heavy breathing next to him, and right now it was way too quiet. Even the gentle whir of the ceiling fan was too loud for his brain, though, and he rubbed his temples in a vain attempt to ease the headache.

Shit.

He _felt_ like shit, worn-out and fuzzy and achy, and Steve was gone.

Double shit.

Part of him wished that he didn’t remember anything from last night, but he hadn’t been _that_ drunk and therefore every second was crystal clear and burned into his brain. Steve how he’d never seen him before, all wild-eyed and using his familiar focus and drive for an entirely different purpose—namely, driving Danny absolutely insane. How they’d eventually stumbled inside, laughing and dripping wet from the pool and the rain. How Steve had shoved him down onto the bed for another round, graceless and intense and amazing as they thrust against each other.

Danny rolled over and winced—the sheets were damp and stiff underneath him, and he was unpleasantly sticky. But he did spot a bottle of Advil on his nightstand, at least, so chances were good that Steve didn’t _completely_ hate him. Danny dry-swallowed three and summoned all of his energy to roll out of bed. The room spun in a vaguely threatening way, but after he took a deep breath, everything settled the way it was supposed to.

Even though he knew exactly what he would find—nothing—he peeked outside anyway. Sure enough, no Steve. But there were two pairs of boxers draped over one of the chairs, which meant that _someone_ —either Steve or a member of the staff—had fished them out of the pool. Both options made him wince, and he ducked back inside, averting his gaze.

* * *

Steve broke through the water with a gasp and paused, treading water for a second, to scrub his hands over his face. He’d swam harder than he had in a long while, and his shoulders were burning with exertion. But he figured that he’d put this off long enough, so with a deep sigh, he steeled himself and started swimming lazily back to shore.

He had woken up that morning with a jolt and had completely, utterly panicked. The sight he was faced with—messy sheets, open back door, _naked Danny_ —matched the onslaught of memories in his head, which were so overwhelming that he’d literally fallen out of bed in his haste to move and landed straight on his ass. Miraculously, Danny slept through that embarrassing display, and Steve was able to creep out of there like the coward he was.

But sometimes retreating was the only option, and at that moment, Steve literally had _no idea_ what he would have said. Not that he was any closer to figuring it out after swimming his brains out for the last hour, that is. He just kept running various scenarios through his head, all of which were bad. Danny regretting it. Danny _not remembering_ it. Danny thinking that Steve had taken advantage of him. Danny wanting _more_ , somehow, and then Steve screwing it up. After all, his track record with relationships was not good, to say the least. Catherine had been…well, _up-and-down_ pretty much covered it. Sure, he was pretty good at hooking up and friends-with-benefits type of situations, but there was no way in hell he could ever do that with Danny.

Danny was the most important person in his life, and that was _before_ they had sex. Now that they had, he…he didn’t even know what to think. The thought of losing Danny was unbearable, and it was difficult for him to imagine any other scenario. Best case, Danny would just laugh it off as a drunken night and move on, but Steve wasn’t sure he could handle just sweeping it under the rug, not when he’d finally realized that his feelings ran a little deeper than platonic.

He finally made it back to shore, his limbs sufficiently exhausted, and picked his way back up the hill to their villa. The bed was empty when he peeked through the back door, and Steve was pretty sure he could hear the shower running. He didn’t even bother rinsing off with the outdoor shower, he just changed into the clothes he’d left on the table earlier that morning. He was tempted to _really_ take off, like go find some kind of excursion to go on for the day or something, but he figured there should probably be a limit to his cowardice. So he headed for the dining room—Danny wouldn’t completely explode at him in public, right?—to await his fate.

* * *

Danny shuffled into the bathroom and stopped short when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Ignoring the messy hair and the bloodshot eyes, Danny leaned forward and studied the fucking _hickey_ on his neck. Jesus Christ, Steve was such a caveman—he craned his neck and touched it gently, hissing. It was already tinged purple and not exactly small, and Danny worried for a second about hiding it. But their cover was good for something, he supposed, and it wouldn’t look that strange to be wandering around with a hickey on his honeymoon. Not that he had much choice, really, since the only thing that could hide it would be a goddamn turtleneck.

After showering and brushing the fuzz off his teeth, Danny felt slightly more like a human being. His brain kept threatening to buzz with panic, but he managed to shove those burgeoning fears aside for the moment. He hadn’t even _seen_ Steve yet, so there was no reason to worry about the impending implosion of their friendship.

Right?

His mental fortitude held strong until he stepped outside into the sunshine, quickly sliding his sunglasses down over his eyes. He figured that Steve was probably eating breakfast, and Danny felt more anxious with each step as he headed in that direction. He knew that he didn’t take _advantage_ of Steve—he’d started it, after all, and hadn’t been any drunker than Danny—but he still felt a little squicky about it. Their inhibitions were definitely lowered, and Steve certainly wouldn’t have kissed him without the influence of alcohol.

And in the cold, sober light of day, Danny was more than a little embarrassed at how…how _needy_ he’d been. He had a vague memory of draping himself all over Steve, climbing him like a tree, and his face flushed dully. God, Steve had probably just kissed him to shut him up.

He scanned the dining room and immediately spotted Steve, who had his back to him and was sitting at a table with Dennis, Barb, and Angie. He took one more quick breath, summoning his courage, and strode in that direction. The only empty chair was right across from Steve, and Danny dropped down into it, smiling and saying hello to everyone else at the table before he could even look at him. Steve’s gaze sharpened on his neck, just for a second before he tipped his sunglasses down over his eyes and shifted awkwardly in his seat. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a heavy swallow, but that was the only indication he gave that something was off. Well, that and the clenched jaw, but that wasn’t too out of the ordinary for Steve.

“Morning,” Danny said, forcing a smile because they were _married_ , goddamn it, and they were going to greet each other in front of other people.

Steve nodded at him but didn’t say anything, so Danny ignored him for the moment and focused his attentions on the most pressing item in his life: coffee. He flagged down a waiter, but of course, as soon as the delicious-smelling, steaming cup was in front of him, Steve kicked him under the table—seriously—and jerked his head, then stood up.

Danny really hoped that his glare conveyed the full extent of his annoyance, but he stood up anyway, clutching his coffee to his chest like the life preserver that it was. “What?” he hissed, after he followed Steve to the edge of the porch. He took a much larger gulp than was advisable, wincing as the coffee burned his tongue, but if he and Steve were going to have an awkward post-coital conversation _now_ , he needed to be a hell of a lot more caffeinated.

“So I think we’ve got something,” Steve said, lowering his voice, and the tension in Danny’s shoulders released. Work was comfortable, he could do work.

“Yeah?” he asked, taking a much more sedate sip of his coffee. “What?”

“Remember a few days ago I heard that they were getting close to a big deal? Then they were doing business all day yesterday and apparently are doing the same today. Angie was complaining about it before you got here. So this must be something big.”

“Okay,” Danny said, nodding. “So what’s the plan?”

“We’re gonna do a stakeout,” Steve said, triumphantly. The sedate pace of this trip must’ve really been getting to him because the look on his face was usually reserved for automatic weapons and driving Danny’s car in an irresponsible manner. Danny was not so excited.

“Yeah, you think?”

He nodded. “They’re all holed up at Paul’s villa, apparently. Maybe if we set up shop outside, we can hear something.”

“Okay,” Danny said slowly. “I mean, the chances are pretty small that we’ll overhear something important, but I guess it’s worth a try. It’s not like we have a lot of other options.”

“My other idea was causing a diversion and breaking in,” Steve said, way too innocently, and Danny laughed.

“Yeah, then let’s start with the stakeout.”

“We need to find out where his villa is, though, I’m not sure which one it is.”

“Oh, I do,” Danny said, remembering. “I was with Barb the other day, and she forgot her sunscreen or something. Theirs is on the other side of the property, closer to the beach than ours is.”

“Perfect. Let’s go back to the room and get ready.”

“Can I, uh, eat please, first?” Danny asked. He had that awkward, hungover feeling in which he couldn’t tell if he was hungry or not. But he figured that he should eat, and mostly, he wasn’t sure he was ready yet to return to the scene of the crime, so to speak, especially with Steve.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get some stuff and meet you back here.”

“Don’t forget my book!” he called out after him, and Steve waved over his shoulder. Danny watched him walk away for a minute before turning away with a groan. Damn, he really wished he didn’t remember how good it had been between them.

* * *

“I am _bored_ , Steve,” Danny hissed, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“This is not that bad.”

“Speak for yourself,” he said with a huff, shifting. “I don’t know what kind of towels these are, but I swear the sand is coming _through_ it.”

They’d been there for the last three hours, and they’d barely heard anything of note so far. The spot Steve scouted out was high on the beach, shrouded in some trees and right up against the low wall that bordered Paul’s villa. It was a little suspicious, maybe, but there was definite plausible deniability if they really were a honeymooning couple just looking for a little privacy.

“You gotta admit that this is better than the surveillance van,” Steve said, and Danny winced.

“Maybe. There’s no sand in there, though.”

“Yeah, but that one night it was really hot, remember? And it had that weird smell. And you kept telling me about doing stakeouts in Jersey winters—”

“Okay, okay, okay,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “I get it. This is not _that_ bad.”

“Would some alcohol make you feel better? I can go get you one of those fruity drinks that you like so much. You know, the ones with the umbrellas.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said loftily, but Steve just snorted. “I think I am gonna go get something to eat, though.”

As soon as he got to his knees, though, Steve propped himself up on one elbow and grabbed his forearm, tugging him back down. “No, shh,” he said quietly, tilting his head. “I think I can hear something.”

Danny obeyed, and sure enough, he recognized Paul’s voice. Probably talking on the phone, it sounded like. They didn’t move for several minutes, just listening, and when Danny heard the word _Caymans_ , he did a little mental fist pump. He reached over Steve to get the phone that was serving as their recording device, brushing against him as he did so and making him yelp. Danny glared at him. “What? Be quiet, I’m just getting the—” he hissed, waving the phone and holding it up a bit.

Paul’s voice cut off abruptly, and Danny froze. “Hello?” he said, his voice getting louder as he clearly approached the wall. “Is anyone there?”

 _Shit_. Danny swung his panicked gaze to Steve, whose eyes had suddenly become reassuringly calm. Steve held his finger over his lips and pushed him down onto his back, but the way he draped himself over Danny didn’t do _anything_ to ease his anxiety.

He only realized Steve’s plan a split-second before it happened, and therefore he didn’t even have a chance to protest before Steve’s lips were on his. This actually wasn’t a bad idea, Danny realized, from the tiny part of his brain that was still processing thoughts beyond _Steve’s tongue is in my mouth_.

He really wished it didn’t feel so fucking _familiar_ , though. Steve’s mouth was exactly as he remembered it, and he also knew that—yep, scratching his nails across Steve’s scalp made him groan into Danny’s mouth and press down harder against him. Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea for their cover, but it was most _definitely_ a bad idea for Danny’s sanity.

He didn’t really care about that, though, not when he could spread his legs a little wider and settle Steve more fully on top of him. Part of him wanted to be embarrassed because he was already hard, but based on what he could feel against his thigh, Steve was in the same boat. And that wasn’t embarrassing, that was just really fucking hot. Danny shifted his hips a little so that his dick bumped right up against Steve’s, but that seemed to break some sort of spell.

Steve lifted off of him with a grunt and flopped down onto his ass next to him. “We should get out of here,” he whispered, running both hands through his hair, and Danny nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, and then coughed in a vain attempt to cover the hoarseness of his voice. “Yeah, let’s go.”


	9. Chapter Nine

The walk back to their villa was more than a little awkward. They didn’t really talk, and all Steve could think about was how nice and _right_ Danny had felt underneath him. He really did make a strategic decision—he thought it was their best option to avoid an awkward conversation with Paul—but he couldn’t deny that also he enjoyed it. And Danny certainly didn’t seem to mind, not if the way he just pulled Steve right on top of him was any indication.

Steve used his key to open the door and followed Danny inside, then shut it with what sounded like a fateful _click_. The room had been cleaned, at least, and the back door was wide open, so Steve didn’t have to deal with messed up sheets and a room that smelled of stale sex. He imagined that would only _multiply_ the awkwardness.

“So, uh,” he said, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room with no real plans for how he was going to finish that sentence.

“Want to give the recording to Chin and Kono?” Danny cut in, and Steve nodded gratefully.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he said, walking over to the safe to get his laptop. Anything to put off talking about what was going on between them. “You wanna set up a video chat?”

Danny snorted and shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Steve tried not to notice how it pulled the fabric of his shorts tight. “You think I’m gonna video chat with _Kono_ when I’ve got this fucking hickey on my neck? I would literally never live it down.”

A bubble of laughter tried to force its way out of Steve’s throat, but he managed to swallow most of it and settle for a smile instead. “Solid point. And, uh, sorry about that. By the way.”

Danny just hummed, tilting his head, and Steve busied himself with his laptop. He settled on the couch, balancing the computer on his knees, and Danny plopped down into the armchair next to him. “You think we got anything good?”

“I think so,” he said absently as he connected his phone to the computer. “He mentioned a lot of names. Hopefully they can match them up to something in all the files we got from the feds.”

“Good,” Danny said, nodding.

“Okay, it’s sent,” he said, closing the laptop a few minutes later and leaning forward to set it on the coffee table. He sat back and stretched his arms out over the back of the couch, hoping that the confident pose would help with the fluttering in his gut. “So. I think we should talk. About what, uh, what happened.”

Danny nodded slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching up with the barest hint of a smile. “Look at you. Wanting to talk about actual emotions.”

Steve scowled. “This is important.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Danny said, his gaze darting quickly around the room. “Not—uh, not here, though.”

“Okay,” he said, standing up. He had a small zing of bravado at the moment, for some strange reason, and he was going to ride it as long as possible. “Where?”

Danny hesitated for a second, scrubbing his hands across his thighs before he got to his feet. “We could go to the bar.”

“Really?” Steve said dryly, crossing his arms. “Alcohol? You think that’s the best idea?”

He blushed, flicking his gaze over Steve’s chest, and both actions were more than a little gratifying. “Okay, fine. Dinner, then. You hungry?”

“Sure,” he said, with an exhale. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Okay,” Danny said, thumbing toward the bathroom. “I’m just gonna go, uh, change.”

Steve nodded and plopped back down on the couch. He wasn’t planning on changing, but when Danny came back out looking nicer than he had before, in a pair of linen shorts and a button-down, he figured he probably should.

Steve was in the middle of changing into similar clothes in the bathroom when his gaze caught on his reflection, and he froze. Wait—was this a _date_? He clutched the countertop in a sudden fit of nerves and took a couple deep breaths, hanging his head. He did a quick mental inventory of the clothes he had brought, but what he had on—light-colored shorts and a dark blue button-down—was about the best he could do. He didn’t have time to shower or shave, he thought, craning his jaw and scratching at his stubble. A quick sniff told him that that he was probably okay without a shower, though he did put on some extra deodorant and a couple dabs of aftershave.

He locked eyes with his reflection and nodded firmly. He could do this, this was fine. It was _Danny_ , of course it was gonna be okay. And with his lame pep talk finished, Steve walked back into the main room and tilted his head toward the door.

“You look nice,” he said simply, holding the door open, and Danny blinked at him for a second before walking through.

“Uh, thanks. You, too.”

They both started heading for the main dining room, but Steve suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Wait,” he said, curling an arm around Danny’s forearm to stop him. He looked down at it for a second before lifting his gaze to Steve’s face, his eyes questioning. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“I dunno,” Steve admitted. They were near the main lobby, and he spotted James behind the front desk. “Let me go ask, I’ll be right back.”

James smiled as he approached. “Evening, Mr. Tapper. What can I do for you?”

“It’s Steve,” he said with a mock frown, making him laugh. “We’re not sure where to go for dinner. What would you suggest?”

“And how nice of a restaurant are you looking for?”

Steve hummed. “Niceish?” he offered. “But somewhere where we won’t be underdressed.”

James nodded and pulled out a map, circling an intersection. “I’ve got just the place. It’s about a 15-minute walk along the roads, and then you can come back along the beach if you’d like.”

“Wonderful,” Steve said, taking a second to memorize the map. “Thank you.”

He walked back to Danny and rested a hand on his low back to steer him back toward the front door. “Where are you taking me?”

“What, do you not trust me or something?”

Danny shrugged, see-sawed his hand, but his eyes were twinkling. “Depends on the day.”

“And what about today?”

“Haven’t made up my mind yet,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and knocking Steve’s forearm with his elbow.

“Careful, or I’ll take you back to that little restaurant we went to last week.”

“Ugh,” Danny said, touching his stomach and wincing. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Sorry,” Steve said sincerely. “We aren’t going there, I promise.”

“Then I suppose I’ll trust you. For now.”

Steve nodded, satisfied. The rest of the walk was quiet, though not awkward, and Steve was pleasantly surprised when they stumbled across the restaurant. It was cozy, and the hostess led them straight to a table on the patio over the beach.

Danny dipped his head to look over the menu, and Steve let his gaze drop to the open neck of his shirt. He had _three_ buttons open—the vagaries of vacationing, he supposed—and it was hard for Steve to look away. Danny cleared his throat then, though, and when Steve jerked his eyes up, Danny was staring right at him, one corner of his mouth quirked up.

Steve refused the impulse to apologize and shifted his gaze to his own menu. The waiter saved him, thankfully, and Steve asked for a beer and picked something at random from the menu. He busied himself with looking at the sunset— _not_ at Danny—until the waiter returned with their beers and he had something to do with his hands.

“So do you, uh—” Steve asked finally, stumbling over his words and not even sure what he was asking for.

“Oh, no, this was your idea,” he said, grinning. “You start.”

“Okay,” Steve said, taking a swig of beer. “So last night was, uh—nice.”

“Nice?” Danny said with a laugh, and Steve wanted to smack him. Instead, he lifted his hands and sat back in his chair.

“Fine,” he said, pointing at him with his bottle. “You go, then.”

Danny worried at his lower lip, and Steve clenched his jaw—he _really_ needed to stop doing that, shit. Danny sighed then, dropping his gaze, and Steve felt a small jolt of validation at his hesitation. Sure, Danny was all bluster and vigorous hand gestures, but he wasn’t much better than Steve at talking about things that were important.

“Are we gonna have to do another ‘on the count of three’ thing?” he asked, his eyes bright, and Steve laughed, flashing back to that day they met in his garage.

“I think that would be a little childish.”

“Well, it would be appropriate.”

Steve sighed and shifted in his seat. He _knew_ Danny was attracted to him. He was pretty sure that Danny wanted the same thing he did, and he was not in the mood to dance around this any longer. He was fucking tired of not getting what he wanted. “You know what, Danny? Yeah, fuck yeah,” he said, ignoring the sharp bite in his own words. Sometimes he hated that he got defensive when he felt vulnerable. “Let’s just—date, or whatever. Why the fuck not?”

Danny swallowed hard and smoothed out the folds in his napkin. “Okay, well, I can think of a _lot_ of reasons why not,” he said sharply, and Steve tried to catalog every reaction on his face.

“But is that because you don’t actually don’t want this, or is that just your pessimistic nature talking?”

He heaved a loud sigh and scratched at his forehead, clearly wavering. But when he spoke, his voice was firm. “The second one.”

Steve blinked. That was what he guessed, but he certainly didn’t expect Danny to admit it so readily. “Oh. So—”

“So,” Danny cut him off, with a tiny smile, “maybe I can do optimistic—maybe. I can try.”

“Yeah?” he asked, cursing the hopeful note in his voice.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile getting wider. “Like you said, what could possibly go wrong? I mean, it’s not like our lives are intertwined or anything.”

Steve laughed, loud and relieved. “Right. Sure.”

Their food came then, thankfully, and Steve relished the opportunity to _not_ talk for a few minutes as they ate.

“I have _no_ idea what we’re supposed to do now, though,” Danny confessed, and Steve blew out a breath.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“This part is never in the movies.”

Steve grinned. “What, the part about what happens _after_ the romantic declarations?”

“Well,” Danny drawled, tilting his head back and forth, “ _romantic_ is a little generous, don’t you think? ‘Let’s just date or whatever?’ C’mon, babe.”

Steve huffed, even though he knew Danny was kidding. “Better than yours.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, a hand on his chest. “Are you impugning my capability for romance?”

“Yes,” Steve said, through a large mouthful of food, and Danny sighed. He reached for Steve’s hand, making his fork clatter down onto his plate, and wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist. He swallowed hard and looked down at Danny’s fingers, pale against his own dark tan. Steve hoped he wasn’t paying attention to his pulse.

“Steve,” he said plainly, his eyes serious. “You’re my best friend. We’ve been pretending to be together for the last week and probably for a lot longer than that. Let’s try for real. All we can do is try not to fuck it up too badly.”

He swallowed again and twisted his hand in Danny’s grip so that their fingers were twisted together. “Okay, I take back what I said about the romance thing.”

Danny laughed and sat back in his chair, looking satisfied. “Good. Now about that whole not-fucking-up thing—I think we should take things slow.”

“You mean slower than pretending to be married?”

“Exactly,” he said, laughing again.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s—that’s good,” he said. “So we can, uh, _ease_ into it.”

“Good,” Danny said, licking his lips like he did when he was nervous. “I’m still not really sure where to go from here, though.”

Steve shrugged. “Just hang out. Like normal. We should probably back off the surveillance for a couple days, in case they’re getting suspicious, so we’ll just—do stuff.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Like whatever people do when they’re on vacation.”

“Very specific,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Okay, how about this. We switch off planning days. You can decide what we do one day, then I do it the next day. No complaining.”

“No complaining?” Steve repeated, arching his eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe a _little_ complaining,” Danny allowed, nodding. “But only because you wouldn’t love me without my complaining. It’s part of my charm.”

“Charm, really?” he said, hooking one arm over the back of his chair and smirking. He decided to avoid the whole _love_ thing for right now.

Danny pointed his fork at him. “I’m _very_ charming. Don’t lie.”

“Okay, Smooth Dog,” Steve said, his grin widening, and Danny huffed.

“You are the worst. I have no idea why we’re doing this.”

“It’s because I’m the charming one. And, by the way, _you_ are the one who, who _stripped_ and then lured me into the pool. So this whole thing is your fault, really.”

“Yeah? And who kissed who first?”

Steve fought the blush that was darkening his cheeks and stood up. “Well, this has been fun. Let’s go.”

Danny managed to drain his beer between peals of laughter and joined him. He turned to go back through the restaurant, but Steve grabbed his arm again. “We can go back on the beach, c’mon.”

Danny opened his mouth, but Steve slapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything. “And don’t say anything about the sand. This is me trying to be romantic, okay?”

There was a rush of hot breath against his skin, and Steve jerked his hand away. Danny was grinning, and Steve swallowed hard—this whole _taking it slow_ thing might be harder than he anticipated. “So who gets to plan tomorrow?” he asked, pleased that his voice came out sounding close to normal.

“Oh, you go first,” Danny said. “This is just a guess here, but I’m assuming that we’ll need my day to recover from your day.”

Steve nodded and then jerked in surprise when Danny grabbed his hand, twining their fingers together. He tried to hide his smile and asked, “What is this?”

“This is me holding your hand,” Danny said, keeping his gaze fixed firmly ahead. “Get used to it.”

“Okay,” he said simply, tugging Danny closer until their shoulders bumped. He tried to ignore the cold from Danny’s ring seeping into his skin.

* * *

When Danny had imagined sharing a bed with Steve in a more-than-platonic way—which he had been doing a _lot_ over the past week—he had pictured waking up in far more enjoyable ways than Steve poking him viciously in the shoulder.

“Ow,” he muttered, scrabbling for a pillow and pulling it over his head. He pretended not to notice that it smelled like Steve, and he definitely didn’t take a deep inhale, either. “What the fuck, man.”

He pried his eyes open, blinking blearily as he twisted his head and took in the sight of Steve standing next to the bed, his arms crossed. He was dressed, his hair damp around the edges, and he smelled clean, like the vanilla body wash that was in the shower. Danny breathed carefully and decidedly did _not_ grind his morning wood against the mattress. They’d kept their promise to take things slow—seriously, Steve hadn’t even _kissed_ him last night—and while it was a little awkward considering that they were sharing a bed, they managed.

“Today’s my day,” Steve said, way too cheerfully for this hour of the morning. “And my day starts early.”

“Okay,” he grunted, flipping over onto his back. “Here I am, not complaining about it.”

“I brought you coffee.”

“Ooh, really?” Danny asked, perking up at the prospect of caffeine. There was a cup on the nightstand next to him, still steaming, and he reached for it eagerly as he sat up against the headboard. He took a sip and groaned—it was creamy and just a bit sweet, exactly how he liked it. “Thanks, babe.”

Steve perched on the end of the bed, his ass next to Danny’s feet, and leaned back on his hands. “You’re welcome. I can be nice.”

“I know,” he said, smiling against the edge of the coffee cup and poking at Steve’s hip with his foot through the sheets.

“And your hair’s great, by the way,” Steve said dryly.

Undeterred, Danny refused to take the bait and just calmly took another sip of his coffee. “I think we’re past the point where I have to care about how I look in front of you,” he said.

Steve threw his head back with an exasperated, exaggerated huff. “The romance is dead. Guess I’ll stop doing nice things, then.”

“Don’t you dare,” Danny said, poking him again, harder this time. “It’s the only way to keep me appeased.”

“Oh, really?” he asked, grabbing Danny’s foot and running his knuckles down the sole.

Danny yelped, holding his mug out in front of him in a vain attempt not to spill as he kicked back at Steve. “You _ass_. Don’t take my coffee away from me.”

“I’m _your_ ass, though,” Steve said, grinning, and Danny couldn’t help but return the smile.

“That is my burden to bear, yes. So what are you going to torture me with today?”

“What happened to the no complaining thing?”

“Oh, that was invalidated when you tickled me,” Danny said, shrugging, and Steve’s eyes lit up. Danny could tell where this was going, and he groaned in dismay, holding his coffee closer to his chest. “No, no, no—”

“Then I need to get my money’s worth,” he said, easily plucking the mug from Danny’s grasp and setting it back on the nightstand before he _launched_ himself onto Danny, digging fingers into his ribs mercilessly. Danny howled and squirmed, trying to twist Steve off, but the guy was really fucking strong. He finally got a good knee to Steve’s kidney, and he flopped down onto Danny with a surprised grunt.

The tickling had stopped, at least, so Danny heaved air into his lungs and tried not to concentrate on the adrenaline licking through his veins. Or the way Steve was fully on top of him now, looking down at him with hooded eyes. It would have been so _easy_ , just to twist his hips a little and tilt his head up, to forget about that stupid shit he said about taking things slow. Danny sucked his lower lip into his mouth as he debated his move, but that seemed to flip some sort of switch because Steve rolled off him and stood up.

“C’mon, slowpoke,” Steve said, patting him on the chest. “I’ll go get you more coffee.”

Danny groaned and closed his eyes, swiping his hand over his face. He needed a minute before he could stand up.

* * *

“I cannot believe you let me surf where there are _sharks_ ,” Danny hissed, but Steve just continued to laugh.

The day Steve had planned involved a lot of physical activity and a lot of water, which was exactly what Danny had been expecting. There had been a hike and a picnic and of course, surfing. And he’d actually had a lot of fun, at least up until they were returning their surfboards and the guy at the shop commented on how great it was that there hadn’t been any sharks spotted in a week or so.

“Oh, relax,” Steve said, grinning. “I wouldn’t let you do anything that was unsafe.”

“Really, that’s what you’re going with? Would you like a literal list? I can do alphabetical, chronological, or in descending order of frequency, whichever you prefer.”

Steve scowled over his shoulder at him as he wrestled with the key to their room, finally getting it open. “Hey, I—”

Danny didn’t really care what Steve had to say to that, not when he could spin them around and push him right back up against the door, tugging his head down for a harsh kiss. Steve had been so… _flirty_ all day, and it had been slowly killing Danny, one grin and one casual touch at a time. He had no idea if that was how things always were and just hadn’t noticed or if Steve was turning it up for his benefit. (Probably both, if he had to guess.) Throw in the whole no shirt thing and the obvious displays of athleticism—though he’d never admit that to Steve—and it was a miracle, really, that he hadn’t jumped Steve before now.

He made sure to pour all of his frustration into the kiss, and to his credit, Steve got with the program pretty damn quick, slouching down as he wrapped his arms around Danny’s waist. It wasn’t lost on him that this was their first _real_ sober kiss, and he tried to make it really good, deepening it and raising on his toes to press against Steve and slip both hands under his shirt.

“So what happened to the whole _taking it slow_ thing?” Steve said, the words muffled as he left a trail of little biting kisses down Danny’s neck.

“Yeah, I can tell you’re really broken up about it,” he said, smiling against Steve’s shoulder. They’d taken a quick outdoor shower at the beach to get the worst of the sand and the sunscreen off, but Steve still smelled amazing, like sweat and sunshine and the ocean, and Danny eagerly licked the taste of the salt from his skin. He also wormed a hand between them and squeezed the hard line of Steve’s dick through his shorts, making him gasp and arch into the grip. “What do you want?”

“Huh?” he asked, clearly still preoccupied with whatever he was doing—giving Danny another hickey, probably.

“You _are_ in charge, today’s your day,” Danny said with a shrug, and Steve froze. He swallowed twice before he lifted his head and spoke, his voice a little rough.

“You didn’t mention that it extended to the bedroom.”

Danny shrugged and waved one hand dismissively. “I mean, hey, if you don’t wan—”

Steve cut him off with a fierce kiss, almost violent, and Danny grinned against his mouth. He pushed off the door and shoved Danny back, keeping him steady with one hand in his hair and the other low on his back, tucked under the waistband of his shorts. The backs of his thighs hit the bed suddenly, and he gasped, trying to hold onto Steve’s shoulders for balance.

He was having none of it, though, and he pushed Danny back onto the bed and stood between his thighs. Steve just stood there for a second, his eyes flicking up and down, and Danny relaxed under the weight of his gaze. He tolerated it for about three more seconds, that is, until he kicked Steve in the hamstring, making him grin.

Steve didn’t get on the bed like he wanted, but he did lean over and nudge Danny’s shirt up with his nose, licking and biting and kissing at every inch of skin that was revealed. “Fuck,” he gasped, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair. He didn’t have any leverage to thrust up with the way his feet were dangling above the floor, though, which was more than a little annoying.

With one sharp tug, Danny’s shorts were halfway down his thighs, and with absolutely no preamble at all, Steve was sucking him down. Danny winced as soon as the noise was out of his mouth—he vould just pretend that it was more of a manly groan than a pained whimper, but holy _shit_. Steve’s mouth was _hot_ , impossibly so, and so wet, and Danny was gonna come so fast, this was so embarrassing.

In a vain attempt to make this last longer—and because Steve was so far away—Danny struggled up onto his elbows and tugged sharply at Steve’s hair, using his legs to try and nudge him up. He obeyed, thankfully, letting go of Danny’s dick with a _pop_ that made him squirm and joining him up on the bed.

“What?” Steve murmured, between deep, sweeping kisses that left Danny’s brain a pile of mush. Danny didn’t answer, instead focusing on shoving Steve up a little bit so that he could wrestle his shirt over his head. Steve got the message and helped, tugging it off and tossing it to the side before reaching an arm behind his head and pulling his own shirt off.

Steve tried to roll off of him, probably just to take off his shorts, but Danny tightened his arms around him and tugged him back down, making a displeased noise into his mouth. There was no way that he was letting go of him now, so he snuck an arm around his low back and shoved his shorts down until the waistband was below his ass. No boxers, thankfully, since he was just in his swim trunks, so Danny curled his hand right around Steve’s dick, making him hiss into his mouth.

God, he was hot and hard and fit so nicely in Danny’s grip. It was a little dry, though, a little too rough even with the sweat and the pre-come, so Danny settled for just trailing his fingers around, feather-light, and thrusting his own dick against the ridge of Steve’s hip.

That didn’t appear to be enough for Steve, though, who leaned all his weight on one elbow and broke their kiss to put his other hand right in front of Danny’s mouth. “Lick,” he commanded, and Danny craned his neck forward to wrap his lips around Steve’s thumb. He was thorough about it, scraping his teeth across the pad of it and licking wetly before moving onto the next finger, keeping his eyes locked on Steve’s the whole time. Steve’s pupils were huge, his mouth so slack and red that Danny couldn’t resist it much longer. He finished the job quickly and wrapped his hand around the nape of Steve’s neck to tug him back down into a lush, wet kiss.

Steve’s big hand fit around both of them, and Danny jerked up into his grip, twisting and gasping when he started stroking. “Fuck,” he said sharply, turning from the kiss to rest his forehead against Steve’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, tugging on his earlobe. “C’mon, Danny, let go.”

It got a little hazy then, what with Steve’s hand and his tongue and his _teeth_ and everything else that seemed designed to drive Danny insane. Danny’s hands scrabbled for purchase against Steve’s sweaty skin, and he pushed up against him just to feel Steve’s weight press him back down. He came first, which pissed him off, but he was too busy moaning and enjoying it to really care. Especially because it seemed to set Steve off, and he spilled over his own hand just a second later.

It was silent for several long seconds as they panted, and Steve’s harsh exhales against Danny’s neck made him shiver. “We didn’t even take off our pants,” he said with a slightly hysterical laugh as he kicked his own shorts off and then did the same to Steve’s.

“Next time,” Steve said, smirking as he smeared his hand through the mess on Danny’s stomach. Danny looked down at it and wrinkled his nose.

“Ugh, you’re such a caveman,” he complained, but there was no heat in his words and Steve knew it.

“Mhmm,” he grunted as he collapsed onto Danny, which really wasn’t doing anything to hurt the comparison. At least Steve kept enough weight on his elbows and his knees that he wasn’t _completely_ crushing him, and he had his nose tucked sweetly against Danny’s neck.

Danny brought one hand up to stroke down Steve’s back and ignored the squirmy feeling of come drying on his skin. He’d just make Steve clean it up later.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…this is pretty much just 5000 words of pure fluffy porn.

Steve woke up early, as he usually did, and blinked blearily at the hazy, gray morning light that was filtering into their room. He and Danny were both on their backs, and Danny had one arm thrown carelessly over Steve’s torso. He started to sit up carefully, trying to dislodge Danny’s arm with the least amount of movement possible, but there was a growl and he froze.

“Don’t even think about it,” Danny said, his voice low and raspy.

“What?” Steve asked quietly. “Am I not allowed to get up?”

Danny just grunted in response and reached over to grab Steve’s far wrist, rolling them until he was on his stomach and Steve was draped most of the way over Danny’s back. “I am _not_ letting you get out of this bed, so we can do this the easy way or the hard way, your choice,” he murmured, without even opening his eyes, and he tightened his grip in warning.

Steve grinned. As curious as he was about what the “hard way” would entail, he obediently settled his weight against Danny’s back and ducked down to drop a kiss on the nape of his neck. “Okay, Danno.”

* * *

The room was much brighter when Steve woke up for the second time. He was still on top of Danny, who was also awake, if the squirming was any indication. “Great,” he muttered, twisting his head to look back at Steve. “Death by sleep-induced suffocation. That really wasn’t the way I wanted to go.”

Steve laughed and pushed himself back over onto his back. The way their skin caught, tacky from sleep, should have been gross but wasn’t. “Hey, you were the one who put us in this position.”

“Don’t blame the victim,” Danny said with a scoff.

“Is Prince Daniel ready to get up now?” Steve asked, unable to resist the temptation to stroke his fingers down his bare back.

“Yes,” he said haughtily, rolling over with a long stretch. The sheets fell down to his hips, and Steve stared because he _could_. Danny ran a hand through his hair, which was a hopeless exercise, and reached over lazily to tug Steve’s boxers off. Steve was happy with this development, certainly, but Danny didn’t make any other motions toward him or even move to take his own shorts off.

The confusion must have shown on his face because Danny smirked. “This is my day,” he said with a shrug, waving a hand at Steve. “You’re not allowed to put on clothes.”

Steve laughed and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. “Really? That’s it?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the _p_. “Besides that, you can do whatever you want.”

Steve smirked and opened his mouth, but Danny lunged on top of him, pushing back down onto his back and covering his mouth with his hand. “But I’m still vetoing naked yoga, don’t even try. Actually, for everyone’s safety, you probably just shouldn’t leave the room.”

“But how are you going to keep me occupied all day?” he asked, settling Danny further on top of him.

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

“It is your turn after all,” Steve said, thrusting up a little bit against him just to watch him gasp.

“My turn to what?”

“You know. Last night was my turn because it was my day, now you get a turn. Whatever you want.”

“Oh, really?” Danny said, his mouth slackening into a slow grin.

“It’s only fair. This time, at least,” Steve added hurriedly. “Not the whole day, don’t get too excited.”

His eyes bright, Danny sat up and readjusted so that he was straddling Steve’s lap. He was clearly deep in thought for a minute, tracing slow circles on Steve’s chest with his finger while he gnawed on his lower lip. “Okay,” he said finally, tapping Steve on the chest with the back of his hand. “I’ve got it.”

“What? It can’t be anything that crazy, we didn’t even bring our cuffs,” he said, smirking, and Danny laughed.

“I appreciate the imagination, but no. I wanna watch you touch yourself.”

Steve froze, tightening his grip on Danny’s hips. He’d never done that before in front of anyone, and the thought was… _intriguing_. “ _That’s_ what you want?”

“What, are you impugning my taste or something?”

“You say ‘impugn’ a lot.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a great word. And you’re deflecting. C’mon, let’s get with the masturbating,” Danny said, sliding off Steve’s lap to lie next to him.

“Wow, you make it sound so sexy,” Steve drawled, scrunching up his nose.

“I’m sorry, would you prefer jerking off, jacking it, tugging your—”

“Oh my god, stop talking,” Steve said with a wince, cutting him off.

“No way, babe. I know you love my voice, don’t lie.”

It absolutely _was_ true, but Steve snorted anyway. “In your dreams, pal.”

“Um,” Danny said with a smirk, looking pointedly at Steve’s erection. “I beg to differ.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I just woke up, this has nothing to do with you.”

Danny’s smirk deepened, and he rolled right up to Steve’s side, sliding a hand into his hair and tugging him down for their first kiss of the morning. Steve went willingly and shifted his weight until he was mostly covering Danny. It was heady and indulgent from the start, their tongues sliding wetly.

“Okay, okay,” he gasped a minute later as he thrust his dick against the groove of Danny’s hip. “I lied, this has everything to do with you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Danny said, looking justifiably smug as he slid out from under Steve and gave him an expectant look.

“What, dry? Give me something to work with here, at least,” he said, and Danny scowled as he rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

“So picky!” he called out.

Steve easily caught the little bottle of lotion that Danny pitched at his chest and squeezed some into his hand. “Ooh, coconut.”

“Ugh,” Danny said, wrinkling his nose as he crawled back into bed. “Now that’s just terrible.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get over it,” Steve said as he got comfortable against the pillows and gently palmed his dick. “And I have another idea.”

Danny’s response was gratifyingly delayed as he kept his gaze locked on Steve’s hand. “Yeah, what’s that?”

“I don’t think you’re gonna be able to do it, though,” he said mildly, grinning when Danny’s eyes brightened. Danny loved a challenge. Not as much as Steve, sure, but still.

“Do what?”

“Well,” Steve said, gesturing at him with his free hand, “stay over there. Without touching me. Until I’m done.”

“Oh, _really_?” Danny said with a grin. “You sound pretty sure of yourself there, buddy.”

“I’m just making a, uh,” he said, his breath catching as he swiped his thumb over the head of his dick, “an educated assumption based on the information I have available at hand. It’s a tactical decision.”

“Okay,” Danny said, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip, “if you can speak in full sentences, you aren’t doing it right.”

“Then maybe you should take over, you know, show me how it’s done.”

Danny rolled his eyes and put another inch of space in between them. “Nice try. What are we betting?”

“I didn’t say anything about a bet.”

“Yeah, but I could see it in your eyes. Plus, you’re freakishly competitive.”

Steve grinned, dropping his hand down to gently tug at his balls, and manfully didn’t mention Danny’s sharp inhale. “Okay. Whoever wins gets to have control of the next time.”

Danny was silent as he slid out of his own boxers and watched Steve’s hand. “How about double or nothing. If I manage to not touch you _or_ myself, then the next two are mine. And vice versa.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Steve said, after only a millisecond of thinking about it. There was no real loser here, anyway. “I would shake your hand, but—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Danny snapped. He rolled over onto his stomach, propping his head on his arms, and Steve enjoyed the view for a second before he saw Danny’s hips moving.

“Uh-uh, nope,” he said, reaching over to smack Danny on the ass. “That’s cheating, turn around.”

“It’s called a _loophole_ ,” Danny grumbled, but he did shift back onto his side.

Steve took a deep breath as he stroked himself, the sweat starting to prickle behind his knees, in the crooks of his elbows. He wasn’t quite sure what to do here—he’d never really jerked off in any way that wasn’t mechanical and solely focused on the end game. But he had pretty good stamina, so hopefully he could drag this out because even though he knew he’d enjoy it no matter the outcome of the bet, he still wanted to win. He slowed the pace of his hand and clenched his other hand on his thigh. “How are you doin’? You good?” he asked, putting a considerable amount of effort into making sure that his voice was steady.

It took Danny a second to respond, and he wet his lips slowly. “Fuck you.”

Steve laughed and allowed himself three hard, fast strokes, arching his hips up into it desperately. “This was your idea.”

“Yeah, well, I have a lot of dumb ideas,” Danny said, watching Steve intently as he forced himself to slow down again. He could feel Danny’s heavy gaze like a physical caress, and he was way too close to the edge already.

“Your dick clearly doesn’t think this is a dumb idea,” Steve said, looking openly at Danny’s cock, hard and an angry red as it rested against his thigh.

“Oh, please,” he snorted. “My dick is even dumber than I am.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s an insult for me somewhere in there.”

Danny shook his head and fisted his hand in the sheet in between them. “Fuck no. No way.”

“Shit,” Steve said, squirming against the sheets and squeezing harder. “I’m close.”

Danny’s eyes lit up, and he propped himself up on his elbow. “Yeah? C’mon, babe.”

Steve grimaced, hating himself a little bit as it took every single ounce of his willpower to pry his hand off his dick and rest it on his stomach instead. “Ah,” he said, sounding far calmer than he felt. “Perfect time for a little break.”

Danny turned his face into the pillow and groaned. “Fuck you,” he said, his voice muffled. “You are the actual worst. I hate you. My _dick_ hates you, which I didn’t know what was possible.”

Steve huffed a laugh and tried to suck air into his lungs. Danny’s reactions were worth all of this physical torture, definitely. He closed his eyes, trying to think about anything else except for how badly he needed to come, and was startled as the bed rustled. He opened his eyes and watched carefully as Danny inched closer. “You conceding?”

“Oh, no,” Danny said with a smirk, stopping with just a hair’s breadth between them. He lowered his mouth to Steve’s ear, and the hot breath made him shiver. “I’m just making conversation. You wanna know what I think you look like?”

Steve groaned and resisted the impulse to stick his fingers in his ears. Danny’s voice really was his kryptonite, and it was really annoying that he knew that already. “No, actually, I, uh, I don’t.”

“Too fucking bad,” Danny said lowly, his voice a delicious rasp, and Steve swallowed hard. His hand had drifted down to his dick unconsciously, so he just went with it, stroking harder and bringing himself back to the edge. “You look like _porn_ , all spread out for me here. This is, without a doubt, the hottest fucking thing that I have ever seen, and it is taking everything that I have not to just roll you over and fuck you.”

“Fuck!” That thought was what yanked him over the edge, and Steve cursed hoarsely as he spilled all over his hand and his stomach. He didn’t even get to take a breath before Danny was on top of him, cursing harshly and leaning down to kiss him. He groaned and wrapped an arm around Danny as he slid his dick through the mess on Steve’s stomach.

“God, that was—” Danny didn’t seem to have much of a capacity for words now, so Steve just kissed him instead, stealing all his breath for himself and swallowing all of his grunts and moans.

“C’mon, Danny,” he murmured, shifting his attentions to bite at the juncture of Danny’s neck and shoulder. The noise he made was fantastic, some kind of strangled whimper from the back of his throat, and and Steve smiled when he felt a surge of wetness against his hip. He closed his eyes and pressed his nose against the curve of Danny’s neck as they both came down from their highs. “You have the best ideas,” he said absently, patting Danny on the thigh.

He laughed and kissed Steve’s neck, right under his ear. “I’m gonna remember that you said that.”

Danny rolled off of him and stretched. Steve wasn’t quite so ready to move yet, so he just watched as Danny got dressed. “I’ll go get us some breakfast,” he said, bracing a hand on the bed as he leaned over for a quick kiss. “Be right back.”

“What, am I some kind of kept man now?”

“Exactly!” Danny called out over his shoulder, just before the door slammed shut behind him, and Steve grinned.

He thought about going back to sleep, but since he wasn’t quite tired enough for that, he stood up and walked outside. It was private enough that he could swim in their pool without breaking the “no clothes” rule, so he dived in. He much preferred salt water to chlorinated, but it still felt good on his overheated skin. He swam short laps, getting lost in the meditation from it until he turned his head to breathe one time and caught a glimpse of Danny standing next to the pool. “Hey,” he said after he stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “Is it my turn to beg you to swim with me?”

“I didn’t _beg_ ,” Danny said, though his voice was muffled as he tugged off his shirt.

“Oh, you most certainly did,” he said, drifting closer to the edge of the pool. Danny shoved his shorts down and glared at him.

“But I was drunk, so it didn’t count.”

Steve tilted his head, skeptic, and shielded his eyes as Danny jumped in. “Does that mean you don’t want to recreate the magic of our first time?”

“Ugh,” Danny groaned, turning away. “That was so embarrassing, I was practically throwing myself at you.”

He crept up behind Danny and jumped on his back, wrapping his arms around his neck and tucking his knees against his ribs. “Oof,” Danny said, pretending to stagger under Steve’s weight. “You’re such a big lug.”

“You love it, don’t lie,” he said, and he squeezed tighter until Danny grunted. “And don’t be embarrassed, it was hot. And it worked, obviously.”

“Yeah, and what if it hadn’t?” Danny said with a snort, and Steve laughed, nosing against Danny’s ear.

“Okay, then it would be embarrassing,” he said, grinning, and Danny groaned again. He somehow managed to turn around in Steve’s grip so that they were face-to-face, with Steve still wrapped around him.

“But you couldn’t resist me, huh? Lucky me.”

“Nope,” Steve said seriously, as Danny’s grin faded into something more thoughtful. “Never stood a chance.”

“Once again,” he said, slower this time, “lucky me.”

Here, in Danny’s arms, staring into his eyes, Steve wasn’t sure what to say. “Thanks for getting breakfast.”

Danny smiled and kissed him. “It’s gonna get cold.”

“I don’t care,” he said against his mouth, prying his lips open with his tongue and taking everything that Danny would give him.

Which was a lot, as it turned out, and it sort of felt like déjà vu in reverse, as Danny backed him up against the wall and held him there with his body. One of Danny’s hands was in his hair, tugging wildly, while the other had dropped to circle Steve’s dick, which was already hard again. Danny did some readjusting, and then all of a sudden his own dick was nestled up against Steve’s, both curled in Danny’s strong grip. Steve was finally forced to break the kiss in order to breathe and braced their foreheads together instead. “Fuck, Danny, oh god—”

Danny just murmured in response, but Steve only got to enjoy the hot, delicious pressure of his hand for another few moments before he moved both hands to Steve’s ribs. Steve made some sort of noise—he was _sure_ it wasn’t a whine—but Danny just smirked and tightened his grip. “C’mon now, up you go.”

It took a minute for Steve to get it, what with the haze of lust surrounding his brain, but he braced his hands on the edge of the pool and hauled himself up and back, enjoying the way Danny’s eyes glazed over at the movement. The stone was warm, startlingly so against the cool, damp skin of his ass, and he squirmed. Grinning, Danny stepped between his knees, and with a stirring in his gut, Steve quickly realized that Danny was at the perfect angle to lean over and— “ _Shit_ ,” he bit out, moving his hand to the back of Danny’s head. “Don’t stop, Jesus.”

Danny lifted his head, after one last hard suck, and looked up at him, his mouth already red. “Just ‘Danny’ is fine, actually.”

Steve groaned and tugged on Danny’s hair. “That is the _worst_ line.”

“Hey,” he said, huffing a hot breath over the head of Steve’s dick and making him squirm. “When I’m giving you a blow job I can use whichever lines I want.”

Steve nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, absolutely, you can do whatev—” He cut himself off with a groan as Danny ducked down again. He was sloppy and enthusiastic, and the vibrations from each of his little groans make Steve want to crawl out of his skin. His hands roamed, up Steve’s thighs and over his stomach and down his arms, before they closed around his wrists and held them down against the ground.

Steve inhaled sharply and felt his dick twitch in Danny’s mouth. He pulled off again—Steve said a swift goodbye to the thought that even _giving_ a blow job could shut Danny up—and stared up at him. “You like that.”

“Man, you should be a detective or something,” Steve said dryly. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

Danny rolled his eyes with an exasperated huff and nodded at Steve’s dick. “Not that. _This_ ,” he said, squeezing his wrists harder.

“Oh,” he said dumbly, gazing down at Danny’s hands. “Uh, maybe?”

Danny smirked at him but thankfully didn’t press the matter further, instead choosing to return his attentions to Steve’s dick. He didn’t let go of his wrists, though, not until Steve squirmed in his grip. “Fuck, Danny, I’m gonna—”

Danny pulled back and replaced his mouth with his hand, stroking fast and hard until Steve came with a pained grunt. He panted, trying to catch his breath even as Danny tugged him back down into the pool. The sudden shock of the cold water made him shiver, and he gathered Danny up into his arms, as much for the warmth as anything.

He kissed him, trying to pour as much emotion into it as he could, and slid one hand up into his hair. “Tell me what you want, Danny, _anything_ , and I’ll do it, fuck,” he mumbled against his skin, and Danny gasped.

“I don’t think I…fuck, just anything, I’m not gonna—”

Steve didn’t feel coordinated enough for anything else, so he sealed his mouth back over Danny’s and wormed his hand in between them to grab his dick. He wasn’t gentle about it and Danny wasn’t either, twisting in his arms and tugging on his hair and biting at his lower lip.

He tensed up all of a sudden, his mouth pressed against Steve’s cheek in a silent gasp, and then Steve felt the quick rush of warmth between them. “God,” Danny breathed, moving his mouth to Steve’s neck, and Steve hummed. He slid one hand into Danny’s hair and used the grip to move his head, catching him in a long, languid kiss. Danny smiled against his lips, and he smiled back, then put just an inch of space in between them.

“Can we have that breakfast now?”

Danny laughed and pushed him away, dropping his legs down. “I think we deserve it now. C’mon.”

He grabbed Steve’s hand and towed him through the water toward the stairs. He patted himself dry with a towel but obeyed the rules and didn’t put any clothes on before sitting down, carefully, at the outdoor table. Danny had gotten a lot of food, and they ate in relative silence for several minutes.

Danny pressed a kiss to his shoulder as Steve reached over him for another piece of bacon, and he swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to Danny’s patented brand of easy affection, but he was so grateful that he had the chance to try. He tucked his fingers in the crook of Danny’s elbow and tugged him closer. Danny came willingly, and Steve pressed a lingering kiss to his mouth, which tasted sweet now from the fruit that he’d been eating.

“What was that for?” Danny asked softly, after he pulled back, and Steve shrugged.

“No reason.”

Danny smiled at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and Steve suddenly decided that he would do anything and everything in his power to make him smile like that as often as possible. For the moment, it seemed to be working.

“Shower?” Danny asked a while later, after they’d lazed around and digested their food, and Steve nodded.

“Yeah,” he said as he stood and grabbed Danny’s hand to drag him toward the bathroom. He hated the tight feeling his skin had after being in the chlorinated water, and he would never pass up the opportunity to shower with Danny. “This is much nicer than the last time we showered together,” he said as they waited for the water to heat up.

Danny laughed and stepped in, tugging Steve after him. “I can’t believe I let you take off my underwear, god.”

“I didn’t look!” Steve claimed, turning his face into the spray for a second. “Pinky swear.”

Danny laughed, hard, and Steve slid an arm around his waist to make sure he didn’t slip. “Pinky swear?”

“Yep. I wanted to, though,” he confessed.

“Oh, really? The whole sick thing didn’t put you off?”

“No,” Steve admitted. “I was still attracted you, even when you were puking your guts out. That’s when I knew I was fucked.”

“Yeah? Exactly how _fucked_ do you want to be?” Danny asked, grinning wickedly as he slid his hand around Steve’s ass cheek and squeezed. Steve smirked and crowded him against the wall, ducking down to kiss him.

“I will happily take anything that you are willing to give me,” he murmured, and Danny groaned, the plaintive sound echoing in the shower. He tipped forward and braced his forehead on Steve’s shoulder.

“Fuck. Are we the only gay couple who didn’t bring lube on their honeymoon?”

Steve laughed and wrapped his arm around Danny’s low back. “Yeah, probably.”

He bit gently at Danny’s neck and kissed his way down his chest until he was kneeling in front of him, pressing Danny up against the wall with his hands on his hips.

“Babe, you don’t ha—”

Danny tugged at Steve’s shoulders, but he shook his head and bit at his hip to cut him off. “Shut up, I’m fine, my knees are better than yours.”

“Not if you keep this up, probably,” he said, and Steve rolled his eyes even as he leaned forward and licked a thick stripe up the side of Danny’s dick. Danny’s sharp gasp was flattering, especially since Steve hadn’t done this very often, and not in a long time. Eagerness went a long way, though, and blow jobs were kinda like pizza—even when it wasn’t great, it was still pretty good, somehow. As long as there were no teeth.

Danny wasn’t fully hard yet, so Steve took his time feeling his way around with his lips and his tongue. He was soon enough, though, and Danny’s fingers had wound themselves into Steve’s hair as curses spilled from his lips. “Fuck, you—shit, Steve, you gotta—”

Steve sucked harder and added his hand into the mix, determined to make Danny literally speechless. He found that strong pressure with his tongue right underneath the head did the trick, and then all that was coming out of Danny’s mouth were whimpers and groans and mumbled grunts of Steve’s name, which he was fine with. Danny tugged sharply on his hair, then, and Steve took it for the warning that it was, pulling back just a bit and speeding up his hand.

Danny came with a hoarse cry, digging his fingers into Steve’s shoulder so hard that he actually winced. A few stray drops were on Steve’s face, so he turned his face into the spray for a second before getting to his feet—fuck, his knees really did hurt—and dragging Danny up into a harsh kiss.

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” he mumbled, and Steve smiled against his lips. He liked this pre-verbal Danny, so he deepened the kiss, filling Danny’s mouth with his tongue and leaving no room for words. Danny made up for it with his hands, stroking restlessly down Steve’s sides and up his back and around his shoulders.

Finally, Danny pulled back with a harsh gasp and rotated his neck. “Fuck, that was good.”

“Yeah?” he asked lowly, not-so-secretly pleased, and Danny grinned.

“Mhmm,” he murmured happily as he slid his hand down Steve’s stomach to circle around his dick.

“Shit.” Steve braced a hand on the tile wall above Danny’s head and looked down. He would have a hard time getting this image out of his head, his dick in Danny’s sturdy hand. His calluses were familiar, sort of, but still different, and he gripped a little harder than Steve usually did, making him gasp. Danny was kissing along his chest, pausing to bite and tug, and Steve really didn’t remember his nipples being so sensitive. It all added to the sensations, and he surprised even himself when he fell over the edge, his climax punching out of him with a harsh grunt.

“Fuck, Steve,” Danny breathed, slowing his pace until Steve winced and pulled his hand away.

“Nap,” he said drowsily, and Danny laughed.

“Yeah, now you’re getting a handle on this vacation. Naps are great.”

They stumbled out of the shower, a little clumsy from the heat and the orgasms, and into the bedroom. It looked like a storm was coming in—the sky was dark, and the room was shrouded in shadows. Perfect for a nap. Steve caught a glimpse of the clock and groaned as he fell into bed. “You made me take a _20-minute_ shower!”

“Yeah, you weren’t really complaining when you were begging to suck my dick,” Danny said as he settled in next to him, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t _beg_.”

“Oh, but you most definitely will be when I replay that memory in my head,” Danny said, grinning, and Steve laughed.

“Well, if that’s the way you want it, I’m sure we could work something out. In a while, at least,” Steve said, rolling over with a wince. “You had it all wrong, we need my day to recover from _yours_. My dick is tired.”

“Aw, did I wear you out, old man?”

“Shut up.”

“Then you really need that nap because this day is nowhere near over. Rest up, babe,” he said, punctuating his words with a sharp smack to Steve’s ass. Steve glared at him even as he pulled Danny closer. “You know, even with that ugly look on your face, you look…a lot more relaxed than usual.”

Steve laughed. “You think maybe the three orgasms had something to do with that?”

“Yeah,” Danny said with a snort, “but it’s more than that.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond but then paused to take a deep breath. “I’m just—I’m just not used to getting what I want.”

He grinned. “I’m what you want?”

Steve tugged Danny closer and breathed against his skin, emboldened by the shadows. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered.

“You’re such a sap,” Danny said after a long moment, as if his own voice didn’t sound a little thick and the grip that he had on Steve’s hand wasn’t in danger of crushing bone.

“And yet you love me anyway,” he said, deciding to step out a bit further onto that branch.

“Yep,” Danny said, sounding impossibly fond as he pressed a kiss to Steve’s collarbone. “My burden to bear, poor me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥ you all! Hope you enjoyed. :)


End file.
